Autumn

"i want you to know

one thing.

you know how this is:

 if i look

 at the crystal moon, at the red branch

 of the slow autumn at my window,

 if i touch

 near the fire

 the impalpable ash

 or the wrinkled body of the log,

 everything carries me to you,

 as if everything that exists,

 aromas, light, metals,

 were little boats

 that sail

toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

well, now,

 if little by little you stop loving me

i shall stop loving you little by little.

if suddenly

 you forget me

 do not look for me,

for i shall already have forgotten you.

if you think it long and mad,

 the wind of banners

 that passes through my life,

 and you decide

 to leave me at the shore

 of the heart where i have roots,

 remember

 that on that day,

 at that hour,

i shall lift my arms

 and my roots will set off

to seek another land.

but

 if each day,

 each hour,

 you feel that you are destined for me

 with implacable sweetness,

 if each day a flower

 climbs up to your lips to seek me,

 ah my love, ah my own,

 in me all that fire is repeated,

 in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

 my love feeds on your love, beloved,

 and as long as you live it will be in your arms

 without leaving mine.”

If you forget me, Pablo Neruda

Fotografii realizate de Stefana Olaru