by Miguel Otero Silva
When all that’s left of me is a tree,
when my bones have scattered
under mother earth;
when nothing’s left of you but a white rose
watered with what you once were
and the breath of the kiss which we drink today
has set sail in a thousand different breezes;
when our names
are sounded without echo
slumbering in the shade of a soundless oblivion;
you will go on living in the beauty of the rose,
as I shall, in the leaves of the tree
and our love, in the murmur of the wind.
Listen to me!
I aspire for us to live
in the vibrant voices of morning.
I want to remain together with you
in the deep sap of humanity:
in the laughter of children,
in the peace of humankind,
in a love without tears.
That is why,
as we must give ourselves to the rose and to the tree,
to the earth and to the wind,
I beg of you that we give ourselves to the future of this world...
translated by Emily Toder
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