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.
i love how the poet is showing us of a love that's healthy, a love that fist loved itself enough to choose it's well-being at the slightest sight of unwantedness from the other heart
The meaning is of a philosophical value of thy elocution of the heart in contrast with madness. Don't worry if you don't understand, I'm different.
Recited with correct breath, the elocution of the poem is divine.
In my humble opinion, he's protecting himself. If his love were to desert him, he would refuse to pine after her. Pride. It's not that he wouldn't be heartbroken, he'd just refuse to show it. He'd move on; his ''roots will set off to seek another land''. He's not being shallow and his attitude isn't 'I'll love you so long as you love me'- it's I'll love you so long as you'll allow me to, but if you should choose to leave me and all we have, don't expect me to wait for you, forever washed up on the shore. For he has a life to live too. A life he'd happily spend cherishing his love, so long as the feeling is mutual. If not, he'd accept it let her live her life as well as moving on to live his own. Broken-hearted, perhaps, but his pride and dignity will triumph.
ratio
Your opinion is right. But the attitude of the poet is very practical in this modern world where fake love is common. Perhaps you may like the poem Love (The real meaning of love) by C.N.Premkumar in which the poet analyses the true love with a diametrically opposite view of Pablo Neruda..
and also L + Ratio fagglknuckle