In the brushstrokes of dream's tender touch, that life

 
Some love still remains. 
Life as it's lived, fragments of feeling here and there,
some searching, some news lost without trace…
more mistakes— all imposed!
…I will make you forget it all…this small wish…in the rebellion of desired and undesired love.


On a night of terrible, tumultuous storm
you came with lamp in hand, I remember.
You called out through folds of cloud, through lightning's cleft.
Such longing stirs…
this whole famished heart,
the silent debt amid death,
mysteries on night's skin,
whatever busy empty time,
a fragment of lived life…
only remains, only remains!
They only want to end…in your very eyes!


Just in the steam of one cup of tea, time will someday
vanish in a puff—so much will remain unsaid!
Still unopened are some unseen dream-hours,
these silent lips have not yet pierced through…
silence has not yet come dressed anew.
We have not yet seen those two mute-gray, faded faces
with yearning painted in their empty eyes!


So much has been turned away…right to the face,
neglect on silent lips—that too has happened! 
I have counted many hours of anguish,
dawn has broken in nightmares…
my old sack of accumulated defeats is quite heavy!


Let some winds of victory come this time,
pushing aside doubt, let there be some knowing,
let the failed letter of the final hour pierce the target at last.
There is more remaining, there is much more love left!
Lip to lip, let there be mischievous play in wayward style,
the way tender care accumulates in deepest affection,
when a little insistence remains, love becomes equal to worship—
I will pour all of that today, tomorrow I'll be bound by duty!


Who pulls away in full passion, loving so much…
through this worn room's floor, round the clock?
Who encircles and holds tight this wounded-foolish anguished demon?
Still I will go today with shameless eyes, pursuing,
again and again I will pull the full silence of empty clouds!
I will make offerings to the uninvited heart with loose understanding,
with gentle touch I will stitch a quilt on this mind's needle-thorn.


Some distance of this path's walking still remains,
walking with weary feet, more love still remains.
You have walked, I know, beside the heart, merging there
you have built heart with heart in heart's embrace.
If this heart must have illness and unease…
when love has happened, in illness too this heart finds joy!


How much more wounding and scarring remains?
Tell me, with what carelessness do I only deceive myself?
Rather, if you wish, I will become sunshine,
I will become your rainbow in the sky too!
If you wish I will become cloud even in the crowd of sun and light,
if you want, you can become another deep black darkness of murderous night!
If needed I will be beloved, otherwise I will be at least some small arrangement.
If you wish I will become a pile of refuse, a well filled with corpses.


In that sky's evening star…you will have it if you wish!
Not in hesitation or shyness, in scattered love I can become even the ocean!
Sometimes, when sky's clouds weep terribly, you will see me there too.
If you wish, nothing else, I will be just a trivial nail in your coffin!
I will be half-sleep in your tired eyes,
I will be moonlight, spread myself in your room,
I will fall as sunshine by day,
when night comes I will be the pale moonlight of separation.


A thousand mornings around you still remain,
embracing you I will steal a thousand moments from life—
there are more such dreams…will you give a little time?
Let me come a little closer, more intensely? Truly I say,
to love just a little more, much of the path still remains!