Pablo Neruda: “I Remember You As You Were Last Autumn”

I Remember You As You Were Last Autumn

I remember you as you were last autumn.
You were a gray beret and a heart full of ease.
In your eyes, the fires of twilight fought on.
Into the waters of your soul, the leaves fell from the trees.

Clasping my arms like a vine slowly climbing,
the leaves gathered your voice, so slow, and full of ease.
A bonfire of awe where my thirst was burning.
A sweet, blue hyacinth in which my soul was seized.

But now I feel your eyes travel, and autumn seems distant:
your gray beret, bird-voice, your heart like a home
to which my longings once made their migration,
and where my kisses, like happy embers, once shone.

Sky from a ship.  Field from the hills:
Your memory is smoky now, like a pond at ease.
Beyond your eyes, the evenings were blazing.
And in your soul spun the leaves of the dry, autumn trees.

Pablo Neruda

Translated from Spanish by Paul Weinfield, © 2014
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s