Not by right, but by feeling

 I was just an ordinary girl,
 with neither striking beauty nor any talent worth drawing you close.
 I had nothing at all
 that would let me stand before you.
 Yet you never cared about any of this.
  
 I never wished to win you through cunning.
 How carelessly, bit by bit, I found you!
 Found you just the way a child learns to walk—one step, then another.
  
 The day I first touched you, pretending to sit beside you,
 that touch itself was victory—having you!
 From then on, at all hours,
 not from need, not from habit,
 I touched you only from love,
 little by little, half by half,
 across the breadth of all my dreams.
  
 You were never my doubt, always my certainty.
 In some lost hour of this life, in deep darkness,
 you came into the very depths of me.
 I used to tell myself often, "As long as I live,
 I'll never look back."
 Having you made that innocent vow come true………
 All my understanding, all my feeling
 was filled with you alone—
 the beginning of a wondrous way of living.
  
 You never spoke of any of my faults,
 not that you didn't see them—that's not it.
 You never said, "Girls don't look good with such short hair!"
 Never said, "Your taste in clothes is somehow off—I don't quite like it!"
 Never asked how I was at studies, or whether I studied at all,
 never scolded, "This girl, you don't know how to dress up?"
 All my incompleteness
 you covered with your completeness—
 sometimes speaking gently, sometimes bearing even more gently.
  
 In all this time, how many hundreds of times I hurt you, knowingly and unknowingly,
 with words sometimes, sometimes with actions!
 You never said, "What a terribly awful, worthless person you are!"
  
 What you couldn't give, you didn't promise; where you couldn't take me, you didn't say you would; you never floated false dreams only to sink them into nightmares.
 I remember it all! You never said, "I'll take you out in the evening, completely yours,
 we'll walk a long way holding both your hands,
 touching a little, laughing a little."
 You never bound me in the false enchantment of promises.
 Truly you are different—the more I've known you, the more I've loved you.
  
 You know, sometimes I felt such thirst—to touch you!
 What everyone wants, what everyone gets,
 I never wanted from you that way, never bound you even slightly in that spell.
 Whatever madness came over me was my own doing!
 I couldn't speak it, could only love you,
 nurturing in my eyes the sweet habit of tears.
  
 How much I tormented you, tell me, with how many excuses—I remember it all!
 Yet you accepted all of this madness that I am!
 Through a thousand moments of closeness I still didn't understand you,
 but because you wished it, I touched you with my heart whenever, wherever!
  
 Little by little I came to know you within myself, in my own way,
 perhaps in this I've moved somewhat away from my own self.
  
 Touching you, I understood, beloved,
 love—it doesn't happen through possession
 but through feeling! If not, then
 why does blood spill in my chest when I see tears in your eyes?