my heart has never been
warn and red:
in the worst moments of this deathly night
many thousand wellsprings of sun
in my heart
flows out of confidence;
in every inch and corner of this despair desert
many thousand merry forests
sprout out of earth.
Oh my lost confidence, my elusive fish,
who slides through the ponds of mirror!
I am a pure lake, now! With the magic of love;
from the ponds of mirror find a way to me!
has been this much big and gay:
in my eyes
on the ruddy fount of teardrops
breathes the decline-less sun of a song;
in every vein of mine
with every beating of my heart
the waking chimes of a caravan sounds.
One night she came to me in the nude
like a water sprite
in her breasts two fish and in her hands a mirror;
her wet hair moss smelling, like moss, together weaved.
I screamed out of despair:
“_Oh my gained confidence, I will not let you leave!”