YOU WANT WHAT YOU WANT BECAUSE YOU DON’T WANT IT

You want what you want because you don’t want it;

You want what you don’t want a lot;

You cannot want what you want just a little bit,

And the next moment you throw it away.

You wanted a violin—but a violin was too difficult to play.

You wanted me. And you stopped wanting me the same way.

But wanting is such that it is not wanting, because wanting

Is not having, and not having is not knowing, so wanting

Is, by its very nature ignorant. So watch out for wanting.

Beware when you want, and beware being wanted.

You don’t know what a violin is, and you are a violin no one can play.

But when I warn you against wanting, you’re just going to want, anyway.

You want what you don’t want. Why did I think when you wanted me

I was going to be loved? I didn’t. I started to write a poem immediately.