The Testament of Silent Return

: Come, let us draw ourselves away from needless emotion.
: But how can I dismiss these feelings? To me, that feeling worn away in waiting for you holds the greatest worth.
It cannot be changed... the luxury of burning myself in the heat of fierce winds spent in your sensation.

: When I think the joy of living without you might surpass this moment of pain—just then you return.
When I think how sorrowful I am, having left you, just then you return—and love me.

: However many times I touch you, I feel—perhaps your indifference is what I deserve.
In my silence, your audible departure seems my fate.
There is anguish in it, but no incompleteness of love.

: Who has ever understood me the way you do?
Without loving well, can one bring such depth to feeling—tell me?


: Let it remain, your name written in the fixed emotion of obscurity.
For all the time you were there in my helpless days and nights, I have been your existence far longer than your unseeing gaze.
For all the hours you forgot me, I was lost in dreams of you.

Your touch brought unexpected defeat to my worn feeling's endless expression.
In your sensation, the pulse stopped, seeking its final journey.
In your sudden appearance—this self-revelation.

: How much do you love?
: Breaking through unreal stillness, as much as the distance of an endless path.