odespinner

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

The lazy one

Things of metal will continue,
voyaging between the stars.
Tired men will take off,
they will violate the quiet moon
and set up their drug stores there.

In this time of the swollen grape
the wine begins its life
between the sea and the Cordilleras.
In Chile the cherries are dancing,
the dark girls are singing.
and in the gutters, water is shining.

The first wine is pink,
is sweet as a tender child:
the second wine is strong,
strong as a sailor’s voice:
the third wine is a topaz,
a poppy and a fire.

My house has sea and earth,
my woman has large eyes,
the colour of wild hazelnut
When night comes the sea
clothes itself in white and green,
and later in the moonlight the foam
sleeps like a seagoing bride.