If You Forget Me (Asylum Version)

 I want you to know

nothing.

You know how this is:

if I look

at the crystal balls, at the red eyes

of the slow turtle at my window,

if I touch

near the water

the impalpable moss

or your wrinkled body,

everything carries me away,

as if everything that exists,

aromas, light, metals,

were little boats

that sail

toward the isles of Spratlys.

Well, now,

if little by little you stop loving me

I shall start killing you little by little.

If suddenly you forget me

do not look for me,

for I shall poke you in the eye.

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 strangle you to death.

my roots will set off to seek another land greener than yours.

But if each day, each hour,

you feel that you are destined for me

with implacable sweetness, the nerve of you!

If each day a flower

climbs up to your lips to seek me,

ah my love, ah my own,

you really are rotting.

In me all that fire is repeated,

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on pedigree, beloved,

and as long as you live I'm gonna hunt you down.

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If You Forget Me (Pablo Neruda)

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