If you erase me from your memory

I want you to understand one thing.
You know the essence of this:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the crimson branch
of the slow autumn outside my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the intangible ash
or the weathered body of the log,
everything leads me to you,
as though all that exists, fragrances, light, metals,
were small vessels sailing
toward those islands of yours that eagerly wait for me.
Now, if gradually you cease to love me, I will gradually stop loving you.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not seek me,
for I will have already forgotten you.

If you find it prolonged and absurd,
the wind of banners
that traverses my life,
and you choose
to leave me on the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I will raise my arms
and my roots will embark
to discover another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are meant for me
with unwavering tenderness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips in search of me, oh, my love, oh my own,
in me all that fire is echoed,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love nourishes itself on yours, beloved,
and as long as you live, it will be in your arms
without letting go of mine.