1
Where this love is true, on that river bank
I spread your bright golden face,
Saline water burns the crops where it goes,
Yet I admitted love’s disgrace.
2
I feel someone distant to be close-
I have still such guilt in me– yet
The near-one to my bosom I lose.
3
I scatter unwritten kisses in the sky
And think they’re swallowed by fish.
Oh ! my thirst of love-
It’s so childish, it’s so childish!
4
Since I love flowers, I don’t pick them;
I rather hide my face in dead grass.
The faults are mine, I don’t forget them;
My only grief is you’re abroad, alas !
Translated by the poet.