Tonight I can write the saddest lines...Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer and these the last verses that I write for her.
I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.
We bear the sole, relentless tenderness.
Everything is so alive, that I can be alive. Without moving I can see it all. In your life I see everything that lives.
I am everybody and every time, I always call myself by your name.
Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance climbed up through my conscious mind as if suddenly the roots I had left behind cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood - and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent.