If you forget me I want you to know one thing my rose...

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon,
at the red branch of the slow
autumn at my window.
Dreaming...
If I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
of 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. Or !

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.
I think... not ?

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 friend, 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.