IF THERE is nothing but pain in loving

then why is this love?

What folly is this to claim her heart

because you have offered her your own!

With the desire burning in your blood

and madness glowing in your eyes

why is this circling of a desert?

He bankers for nothing in the world

who is in possession of himself;

the sweet air of the spring is for him,

the flowers, the bird songs;

but love comes like a devouring shadow

effacing the whole world,

eclipsing life and youth.

Then why seek this mist that darkens existence?