Voluntary Concealment, Willful Wandering

 You know all of me, everything there is to know,
 You understand it all, don't you…
 I live in poetry, I breathe in verse,
 Yet somehow I'm forbidden from becoming poetry itself!
 These two lips of mine tremble in the wind,
 While dreams held tight in my fist come rushing toward me.
 When losing things becomes the rule,
 Only the busy bonds of illusion get wet.
 The foolish demon searches in unknown networks,
 Where words weave themselves into shadows,
 And emotions, alas, change from moment to moment!
  
 Where should I go to find that 'you'?
 Will someone tell me…I'll go there right away.
 Will you sit quietly beside me for just a little while?
 My happiness comes carried in the palanquin of your words!
 I'm telling you the truth—if you don't love me well, don't keep me in joy and tenderness,
 Change the daily routine of taking me to your heart,
 Then I'll just sit here quietly with puffed cheeks, arms and legs slack!
 I won't write letters anymore, won't speak at all,
 Won't listen to any excuses, no matter how much it hurts!
  
 I see you quite enjoy taking love and affection all by yourself…fine then,
 Go ahead and love yourself so very well all alone.
 You've learned wonderfully how to dodge,
 All those excuses for not talking…well, I understand those too!
 You must be thinking…what a handful this girl is,
 Sharp words, such audacity…the burden falls on me instead!
 She'll stay anyway, see for yourself…whose fault is it!
 If you don't keep me with affection again,
 If you deliberately don't give me time under the excuse of work,
 If you forget me nicely in the pressure of tasks here and there,
 Then I too…without speaking, without listening, I'll puff my cheeks and sit without eating anything…
 I won't answer when you call,
 Letter-writing will stop completely,
 I won't torment you anymore by saying I love you,
 Come close, pull me near…all such madness will simply end!
  
 Haven't you thought hard…you won't show affection anymore!
 As if I'm utterly foolish, can't manage anything at all!
 How to receive affection—I've learned that well from you too!
 If you don't show affection, then I'll demand double affection!
 Where will you go without taking me to your heart, kitten?
 Not loving isn't that easy!
 There's time for everyone, time for everything,
 Where's the time for me?
 When will you give me my share?
 I don't want anyone else's share, that gives me nothing,
 If you give me my share of love properly every single day,
 I won't wage war anymore! Even if you give time to others, I won't compete!
  
 You might think, fine then, let me not give and see what she does!
 Then I too will sit quietly with arms and legs slack.
 I won't go mad asking for affection,
 Won't say 'I love you' anymore,
 Letters…I'll never write those again, not even by mistake!
 You won't tend to love, won't show affection, will leave me in neglect,
 Then when I sulk, you'll come and say with a gentle smile: You're such a good bird!
 Acting as if there's no fault of yours at all!
 Living with you, I've learned all this cunning quite well!
 Show affection and I'll be good, I'll keep well…
 Everything will go quite naturally…this much I know!
 But if you neglect me, keep me without care, don't pull me to your heart even a little,
 Then fine…I too know all those rules, the rules that will shake you!
  
 Tell me, why are you so miserly when it comes to giving love?
 Do you have such a shortage of love?
 Every day when I wake and see that face of yours,
 I feel as if I'm getting lost somewhere far away…
 I think, how terribly happy I am, in my own way!
 Sometimes this also comes to mind…
 Are you really you, the one I love?
 Where did such fortune come from, to have you?
 I receive your love…why is such happiness in my fate alone?
  
 Sometimes your love seems like my right…
 One of the basic needs, without which nothing works anymore!
 Tell me, can one write with resentment toward the very person one writes to?
 Anger and resentment toward you simply don't work anymore…
 But I cannot bear your neglect at all!
 Then I don't write anything, don't say anything…I just hide quietly!
 What would you call this? Writer's block? Or voluntary hiding at will?