Inability

No chance remains now to claim you as my own.
Each evening, sitting in prayer, thinking of you
as my most precious blessing—now there's no reason left
to offer any gratitude to God.
No excuse remains now to fabricate some pretense,
some ruse just to speak with you once more.
To have you as mine—now there's no hope of living
with any positivity, save some emptiness
or the arrogance of the impossible.
Such is my helplessness! Such is my failure!

Perhaps I never truly loved you
with honesty, swearing by my own purity.
Had I been able to, you could never have proven so wrong!
Or in all my helplessness, you would never have found
such indulgence in my life!
Some gap remained in my prayers.
In worship's flowers came not a single vine of hope,
but thorns instead—
leaving each of my sacred offerings wounded and bloodstained!

Sometimes I think,
let a fierce nor'wester storm ravage the entire world!
Let all our heartache and impossible crossings finally end...
Let all our forgetting be erased.
Let us compose anew in love's fountain the epic of a new spring.
Let us live as one in eternal spring, forever and ever.

Often I think,
in all this ultimate helplessness and anguished youth,
let some divine proclamation be announced!
At least one joyful message should come...
You and I together—let there be born our new love-spring!