We aged a hundred years, and this happened in a single hour: the short summer had already died, the body of the ploughed plains smoked.

I know beginnings, I know endings too, and life-in-death, and something else I'd rather not recall just now.

The word dropped like a stone on my still living breast. Confess: I was prepared, am somehow ready for the test.

Rising from the past, my shadow Is running in silence to meet me.

My shadow serves as the friend I crave

A loss, but who still mourns the breath of one woman, or laments one wife? Though my heart never can forget, how, for one look, she gave up her life.

Though you are three times more beautiful than angels, Though you are the sister of the river willows, I will kill you with my singing, Without spilling your blood on the ground. Not touching you with my hand, Not giving you one glance, I will stop loving you, But with your unimaginable groans I will finally slake my thirst. From her, who wandered the earth before me, Crueler than ice, more fiery than flame, From her, who still exists in the ether— From her you will set me free.