Coward

I would speak with pride of the one I love.
All in all, he's a good man, gentle-souled, undoubtedly handsome!
But not just with pride—split in two by shame, buried in earth, tonight I also confess:
Along with all that, he's a terrible coward!

His love comes like seasonal fruit—
Just as each season brings its own harvest,
So too his love arrives suddenly, and suddenly vanishes!
I'm only human, not all-knowing—when love stirs in his heart, when the wind changes direction,
Try as I might, I can never quite fathom any of it!

The man who in the morning, overwhelmed with feeling, sends me a whole bouquet of tuberoses,
That same man, come afternoon, weighs every word with gravity,
And in analyzing them, champions his improvised reality with a world's worth of logic!

On evening walks, when darkness falls and unfamiliarly I stumble along the path, fear comes!
Then he, caring nothing for all that's passed, lets go my hand, plays the perfect stranger—
What if people see us, what might they say!

When he would caress me, bathe me in tenderness,
I used to think, why do people call love so difficult? This is simply lovely!
But at day's end, I fall utterly silent!
When your beloved is a coward, what terrible anguish that brings—how can I make anyone understand!

After much pondering, much thinking, I've made my decision!
With what tenderness, what care I loved him!
My heart tears apart, the dam of tears bursts,
Yet tonight, I must hold to my daylight resolve!

Let all my teardrops, streaming down my cheeks, dry on the locket at my throat!
With a stone tied to my heart, I'm letting the man go...I've let him go!
Let him flee! Ah, my coward of a lover!
Let him keep his sins and virtues to himself...in his breast pocket...sewn shut!