Fire-talk

 To hold the water in my eyes
 I look up, now I walk.
 The water pools, the well grows deeper.
 Walking, I pause and wonder—
 this walking alone in happiness
 (as everyone, alas, believes)
 will life pass in this happiness's beckoning?
  
 If the day passes like this,
 whispering dust to dust, night falls,
 stars in the eyes, those very stars descend,
 melancholy descends, waterfalls on the moon's chest.
 Did days pass like this before too?
 Washing away this terrible solitude of joy?
 Thinking and thinking, weariness descends, the brain sweats.
 Is happiness then only in the corner of clouds?
 Does it make faces from hiding?
 When sky is touched, when wind goes wild,
 does happiness's touch set the soul swaying?
  
 See how the tears run dry,
 rivers wither, stones age.
 On this day of touching the sky, alas,
 will tears of joy come here? How?
 Let the water remain, let the well deepen. That's better.
 In this night, sunlight weeps in the heart's cage,
 solitary eyes stay awake while the heart slides away.
 Intoxication's spell torments the night, chases sleep.
 Pain hides in starlight's shadow,
 darkness babbles, scatters delirium in the wind.
 Sorrow's blue floats
 in the yellow moon's shadow. Stops, makes stop.
 In this blue, rain descends,
 sends news in yellow envelopes,
 selling happiness for water's price.
 Loaded memories dance in light, trampling darkness.
  
 One by one, everything returns.
 What was, was truly there—
 I was there, you were there, love was there too.
 The gray sky turned blue as well.
 Changing, I became myself.
 Everything happened, everything was.
  
 Then where did you go today, alas, why did you go?
 Calling happiness, sorrow would leave—that was the pact.
 I will stay, you will stay—you had said.
 Then why, calling sorrow, did you yourself leave?
 My thoughts are so tender, soft in your love.
 When pain comes I swallow pain and keep weeping,
 groping, searching, understanding separation dawns—
 such living is harder than dying!
  
 When I cried, you would wipe it away with those two hands.
 Bound in that habit, it left a terrible mark.
 The mark is large—you didn't erase it, you disappeared.
 Even sunlight today feels shame,
 runs far away to hide,
 if you had stayed beside me in such light of this hour,
 even the most sorrowful swan—
 would have been drenched in sunlight's water, danced laughing.
 You may have been your own, are your own even now,
 but the love that was mine—
 why did you take that too?
 If you loved by keeping count,
 today it's finished by that same count?
  
 Will you come, tell me?
 See here, I am just as before, waiting on your path.
 You come in dreams, came that day too—what spell you cast to make me forget!
 Among the garden full of flowers, on golden leaves dancing and singing, you made me dance.
 Why then do you make me weep so, leaving my home empty?
 If you came, you'd see the world would rejoice,
 we two would sing together,
 laugh in happiness, float on air, forget in sorrow,
 years would turn in moments,
 life would pass just like this in tremendous joy!
  
 The sky descends.
 Now the eye will be hidden
 I no longer bring rain down on myself—
 I myself now bring down rain, store rain in sorrow's vessel.
 This way vision burns,
 fire flies in blood, in chest.
 ...This then is me!