The Waster Pablo Neruda

I chose you among all women
so that you would repeat
on earth
my heart that dances with tassels
or fights without quarter when necessary.

I ask you, where is my son?

Wasn't I expecting myself in you, recognizing myself
and saying to myself: "Call me to come upon the earth
to continue your fights and your songs"?

Give me back my son!

Have you forgotten him in the doors
of pleasure, oh enemy
waster,
have you forgotten that you came to this tryst,
the deepest one, that one
in which we two, united, will go on saying
through his mouth, my love,
ah everything
that we did not manage to tell each other?

When I lift you up in a wave
of fire and blood, and life
doubles between us,
remember
that someone calls to us
as no one has ever called to us
and that we do not answer
and we are left lonely and cowardly
before the life that we deny.