When I very much wanted to love,
you presented yourself as a subject the most worth loving
by the highest standard I was then able to define
and the urgency was thankfully small;
we proceeded normally, without wine.
Smiles when I passed you in the hall,
a train of associations on the train
would lead to love,
but why did that love turn particularly insane?
It had its demands, but thanks to them,
pleasures of all types arose:
those of contemplation, even chastity,
as well as the earth of you filling my nose.
The lilacs in the park we touched together,
not afraid of the stinging bees;
they say the tide of good will drown the world,
everyone shall have one drowning world—
at last! you gave me one of these.
The good, they say, will cause a civil war,
so much so that the bad is its fault;
the good will never compromise,
so that even mostly good people rebel;
there it is, in the light, and here;
good will ruin everything; that’s why love
made me unwell.