That not for you, my heart is sweetly aching,
And that this planet under our feet
Will never drift away, while turns it’s making.
I like that being funny has rewards,
Disbanded, too, – and not paying mind to words.
And, in a choking wave, I do not blush,
When our sleeves against each other brush.
I like it that you are in front of me
Embracing other women with no bother
And not predicting hell fire for me
To burn in just for kissing some another.
And also that my gentle name, my dear,
You never mention through the day and night – in vain,
That, in a calm church, never, we’ll appear,
And Hallelujah wouldn’t tie us, as the twain!
I’m grateful to you with my heart and hand
For loving me, while not so realizing,
For granting me nocturnal peacetime, and
For it isn’t us, together at stars gazing,
For moonlight strolls, predestined not to start,
And for that sun, which not for us is burning;
And not for me, alas, still longs your heart,
And not for you, alas, my heart is longing!