What would have become of things, if you had never come into this life?
What would have become of us, if we had never met?
What would have become of me, if I hadn’t lost myself so completely in your touch?
What would have become of me, if waiting for you hadn’t taught me how to live?
Through countless nights, through numberless moonlit hours, I let myself drift, hoping to spend a few moments with you.
With my heart I bought those moments—life’s most precious treasure!
In longing for you, dust has gathered and covered my path…the marks of waiting have accumulated.
Now these moments give me peace—the peace of not having, of breaking apart.
There is joy in some things breaking!
If you hadn’t come, love’s colors would have remained unknown.
If you hadn’t come, I never would have understood that something called the heart truly exists.
If you hadn’t come, I never would have known I could lose myself in your world of thought.
If you hadn’t come, I never would have learned that there’s only one way to make yourself victorious: to lose yourself completely!
What would have become of things if you hadn’t come?
Perhaps I wouldn’t have learned to be disobedient to myself…yet that too would have been good!
This longing to live that slowly, day by day, builds its nest within us—perhaps I would never have known it at all.
Perhaps I wouldn’t have grown so fond of this life, but even that would have been better!
What would have become of things, if one day you yourself had come to tell me, “I want so much to return to you, but alas, there at the horizon today is someone else…!”
Before leaving, again and again I turn back to look,
only you and your shadow call me back;
someone whispers, as if to say, it’s all illusion, nothing more!
Love...it's only an illusion, only falseness covering and guarding an emptiness...an emptiness on whose walls cling two names!
Love...behind its shell, a beloved wound