Why can’t I enjoy this joy?
She is my tree, my poem, my ploy
In the ground, a certain sound,
A pleasant, lucky love I found.
But love is never finally enjoyed.
You make each other agitated.
We did. I drank. I couldn’t sleep.
Love is beautiful, passionate, and deep.
But it’s jealous. In one second, I became a creep.
She is my swan among the swans
On the bronze lake that stretches forever
Among shadows where shadows turn into her.
But love does not go well for anyone.
Love burns. A sun inside a sun.
We must die. We must pay the tax.
And when you’re in love, you can’t relax.