The Old Coat

 Inside this grey coat, again and again,
 the old magic of warmth rises, enchanting.
 The coat is old-fashioned today, yes, but wonderful still!
 It wraps me just as it did the first day—such love!
 Just as you embrace me and shower me with affection,
 see how tenderly this coat enfolds and holds me.
  
 The coat's wool, the coat's body, the coat's weave—my beloved.
 Just as I love to sleep within this body on winter nights,
 so I bind myself in gratitude to this memory, this tailor's coat.
 Years turn into years, but love remains constant,
 this grey coat's love is not grey—it's vibrant!
 It loves so warmly, wraps me in heart's magic—that's you and this coat!
  
 Who wove it with such care, who washed the wool?
 Row upon row of hidden love's color
 that I only touch. Its address will remain hidden,
 winter hours will come and go, it will be lost, winter will lose!
 With what tenderness it touches me, I sit and wonder.
 It touches with such enchantment that I call it beloved,
 you too touch me, becoming so dear, with that same tenderness, on winter nights.
 So I wrap it close, brush kisses lip to lip,
 in smoke and vapor the frost flies, bones shiver in the coat's embrace.
 At the collar's shoulder, needle's prick, sleeve's button dangles thread,
 how shyly the wool hides the body, winter swaggers!
  
 Old though it is, I cannot abandon it! Let it be torn, it's mine! I'll mend it.
 Torn doesn't mean different, old doesn't mean discarded—not at all!
 My coat is drawn by love's thread, the more it tears, the more I'll join it!
 Thinking of you I embrace, I merge, I touch, I mount. I clutch you to my chest,
 I sleep at night with the coat. Life passes this way beside you, in your touch.
 When I travel, the coat clings to my body, gossiping in its folds across lands.
 Beneath the coat's soft warmth, in heart's mold, I search for you.
 I see, I touch—you are there just as before.
 This is how I live, anointed with your memory.
  
 If ever I am lost, the body will be lost, but you'll remain in the coat's thread.
 When I die, burn me, throw me, or bury me, neighbor me in earth's house—whatever pleases.
 Only the coat is deathless, immortal. Just as love survives, the coat's body will live—you'll see!
 Life passes in one coat, as a lover finds happiness in one woman.
  
 I can bear no more, I hide all my tears inside the coat,
 the attic weeps along, spreading sorrow's song across my chest. Two heroes—the coat and I.
 In the coat's torn pocket, bread crumbs, old thread's grey ball,
 remind me of that dawn moment at journey's start, of you.
  
 In warm heart, winter's touch gets caught,
 in stormy nights, fear makes the coat's body tremble.
 Sinking sorrow's boat in the coat's thread,
 I search for joy, as in grief a boy seeks his lost mother.
  
 In this grey old coat,
 on some unknown, frightened night,
 with that faithful friend,
 in the train compartment's empty chamber,
 in past night's hundred-year grief,
 touching and smearing dawn's light,
 I circle your heart, laughing.
  
 Outside then, snow is fierce,
 when I hide in the coat's corner.
 Time flees, hours flee,
 in whose shadow do I live hiding...
 The grey coat's color makes me wonder,
 what silken craft stays awake,
 the coat's heart thinks of that alone.
  
 Come dance in the body of eyes,
 day ends, night advances,
 that first day's first caress,
 don't you give even on the last day.
 I'm leaving, you remain,
 and this coat too.
 Only you were in the coat,
 I was in the body.
 At leaving time, I gave both.
 You stay with great care,
 keep the coat with care too.
  
 Grey friend, know this farewell.
 I love you, stay well.