The Ocean of Questions

 
Why do you always keep me in such unrest?
To be able to love you…
is at once a blessing and a torment!


I feel such intensity toward you,
try as I might, I cannot turn away from it.
Wherever I am, whatever my state,
I think of you constantly.


I truly understand you're very busy,
yet resentment builds up against you. What should I do—you tell me!


I want to make myself dependent on you in some ways.
Yet I'm someone who, even for the smallest things,
is terrified of being dependent on anyone.
And here I am today, desperately wanting, with all my feelings…
for a deep tenderness to grow between us.


Listen, I spend so many words on you, and
why do you just stay with your yes, hmm, okay, alright?


The more I try to understand you, the more I think,
the more it seems that everyone in the world would find
many of their own feelings in you, but no one
could ever discover themselves in you separately!
What a vast place of misfortune this is, if only you knew!


In the stories you write, the women there—
they seem somehow pitiful!
They love, they suffer, they love again…
Is their lover you, then? Or someone just like you?


You know, I've noticed something.
Maybe you don't exactly love me, but
for some unknown reason you tolerate me,
let me trouble you…but why?