If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda | Powerful Life Poetry

“If You Forget Me” is a poem by the Nobel Prize winning poet Pablo Neruda.
Translated from its original Spanish. It was originally titled as ‘Si Tu Me Olvidas’ and belongs to the “Captain Verses” collection.

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.

Read by Dave Luukkonen

Music : Scott Buckley
Snowfall
: By Attribution 4.0 License

#PabloNeruda #Iove #PowerfulLifePoetry

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[brianroylance]

She has forgotten me, and soon I will forget her too.
My loving branches were not strong enough to hang her swing.
My little leaves like kisses, could not cover her in a cool, comfortable shade.
She is gone, but each day the sun rises.
Each day I tow my frail and withered trunk to the richness of the sun.
It’s golden fingers saturate my soul with the nectar of vitality and strength.
The winter winds may come, and I may shed my leaves as tears of heartbreak.
But one day, she or someone else will be able to laugh and play at the stoop of this solemn frame.
They will enjoy the tender fruits of my hardships.
But until then, she is gone.
One day I will be ready.

Just a little something from my broken heart. I hope someone can enjoy it.

[imammaulana]

Please give the man who read this poem a huge credit, what a voice!

[amelittaberretta]

I adore this Poem.i would like to send it to my ❤Love❤!

[alienchaser]

Absolutely breathtaking....the one who read it should be thanked many times

[pietroserra]

Please, give to Pablo Neruda the Oscar of the poem…if it exists.

[amandaforrester]

Neruda was my ex's favorite poet. These are touching something in me I wish didn't hurt anymore.

[imashick]

I love Pablo Neruda's surrealistic style of poetry. This poem is beautiful. 💖

[chriscunningham]

My love feeds on your love my beloved.... This is a passionate and wonderful poem that describes the way that love is an ongoing mutual transaction to nourish and meet each other's desire to keep working to make each other feel satisfied, needed, comfortable and happier together than alone.

[juliamaize]

Who could ever forget someone who expresses his love so sweetly?
Wouldn't it be wonderful to be so loved 😔 ( ahhh *deep sigh )

[jumpingship]

Stop your world of activities and actions and let this flow thru your being, your heart, your life. These are insights from a master teacher.

[NusratTasnufaChowdhury]

Love to whoever recited the poem. Please upload more poems recited by him. He brings poems to life ❤

[lynnrobinson]

I was once very ill, and lay in hospital, when my 8 year old daughter insisted, unbeknownst to me, to her guardian that she needed to go out immediately to buy me a “single, young rose-bud” - that very day. She had feared I might die before she could give it to me. He took her to three different flower shops before she found what she said she had to have, turning many other flower suggestions down.

Even as ill as I was, I was so overcome by her tender loving gift when she held it out to me. As I looked into her eyes, I saw her heart break as I realized she really thought I might die. Later that night, I was still thinking of how worried she must feel, and I wanted somehow to write my feelings down to reflect on the emotional trauma we both had experienced, so I wrote these words, that almost tripped out of my thoughts, and I called it:  

THE TRUE BEAUTY OF A ROSE…. @. Lynn Robinson 1983

The true beauty of a rose
shared with another,
has very little to do
with its scent or its colour.
But a rarer beauty still,
that flows like a river,
can be found in the love,
in the heart of the giver.




And later when I was home again,  I gave it to her as my gift back to her. Much, much later, I was persuaded to enter it into a contest, and it ended up winning, and eventually published in a British anthology collection. I hope you don’t mind that I have shared this with you. I’ve never really thought of it as anything really “professional”, but it just seemed to really help both of us show how much we loved each other., and we each reached out to show it in our own ways. Thank you.

[gwynnielsen]

This is a tragic love poem. The poet understands the fickle nature of romantic love and is a realist.

[davidlasoff]

Neruda obviously never agreed with Shakespeare: Love is not love if alters when it alteration finds. Having truly, madly, deeply loved and thinking I'd put it all behind me. One day, I woke up and saw how I had deceived myself all these years. There she was. In my heart of hearts after all with an unaltered sense of oneness in the soul beyond time and space. I was, in fact, relieved to find out that I have always loved her, still love her and now realize, I always shall...like no other. I now look back on all the ridiculousness of my pursuits without her and it is not a life wasted having finally seen that I could be nothing without her. Strangely, this comforts me and the anguish, though poignant again as if it were yesterday, is somehow sweet in its bitterness. Bill was right. Pablo was wrong.

[lorelai]

Every time...every time, this poem gets to me. Magical words taking you on a journey ...
One day i'll find you. Until that day, i'll keep on reading magical words that enthral the mind, enrich the soul and mend the heart.

[plurplursen]

I was in his house in Valpariso. The view from his bedroom struck me. Then his little personal bar in the back room. Really inspirational

[GR-scph]

My favourite poem ….my favourite poet …i adore his work

[ohworiehaogheneyolevictory]

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.

[anne-mariepoage]

In love with this beautiful poem and his voice.

[gerryleb]

Thanks for posting this brilliant work of art.