The Drought

To N. D. R.

Don’t be afraid, you will forget me;

This feeling, by name invoked,

Will wither gradually as distance separates us;

In a succession of white days of drought,

Time will turn into dust the soil,

And into ash the leaves;

/

You will not think of me forever

With the same yearning as today;

When you still saw but couldn’t reach me,

My image growing smaller, features blurring,

Until, frustrated and surprised, you realized

You hardly knew my face;

/

Don’t feel ashamed to let the strings,

Which still tie you to me,

Break, as all things do,

Or to agree with friends, who tell you

That I was nothing special –

It is absolutely true;

/

You can replace me with another,

My spark is not the only light;

Don’t be afraid, you will forget me

When the new spring’s rains feed

The seeds

Of all new life