My beloved,
I cannot accept your try to overpraise me
For if I did, I would not know myself.
I know your eyes are true and clear; yet, thinking well,
I also know that love can make a man not see.
And from so many knowings and so many learnings,
I could not be more frail in knowing Life.
How many times did I yield to a self-devouring strife
and you brought my breath to many happy returnings?
How many times was I reborn?
How much of my time have you taken from old?
I have always had your hand, thus
You always shall have mine in any kind
of song this Life may throw on us.
So dance with me. My feet are worn.
’Twas time for my wings to unfold.