Mental Prostitution

I want freedom! This time I want freedom, beloved!
Not from this solitude,
but freedom from this melancholy toward solitude!
I don't want you—
I want to love this solitude without you!

I want freedom from this desperation to have you near!
I want to find the way to live without you!
I want to learn to live
loving this solitude
far more deeply!

Even if everything abandons me in disbelief and neglect,
leaving me alone at this harsh address called life,
solitude itself will never abandon me—
never vanish suddenly mid-journey, becoming 'nothing'!

Once I learn to survive by loving solitude,
I'll be freed from these chains of dependency
built on love's reliance on others—
then I too will truly live!
I too will touch freedom that day!
I will truly learn to live alone!
In this solitude I will surely find my life force!

O beloved former, I look at you and think:
love is a kind of mental prostitution.