Thursday September 11
 
13:56
 
Don’t Go Far Off, Not Even For A Day

Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —
because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don’t leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don’t leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you’ll have gone so far
I’ll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

Don’t Go Far Off, Not Even For A Day by Pablo Neruda

I ‘m quite enjoying this guy’s poetry; I dare not read more for fear that this blog will just fill up with his work. The titles intrigue me though: “Saddest Poem”, “Drunk As Drunk”, “Ode To a Large Tuna in the Market” (?!)

Thursday September 11
 
13:06
 
If You Forget Me

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 by Pablo Neruda

I adore this poem. It expresses something very simple:

I love you - but don’t take my love for granted. For if I see your love for me starts to disappear, then my love will go to.

I’m opening up my heart to you, letting you inside. But you need to reciprocate. You need to show me that your love is as strong. I wont settle for anything else.

Beautiful.

Wednesday September 10
 
16:25
 
Blasphemy

503. A Red, Red Rode. Robert Burns. The Oxford Book of English Verse.

O my luve is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly played in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonny lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only love,
And fare thee weel, awhile!
And I will come again, my love
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.

A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns, 1794