No it’ not you I love so fervently,
The brilliance of your beauty is not for me;
I love in you my past suffering
And my perished youth.
When at times I look at you,
Into your eyes penetrating with my long gaze,
I’m engaged in a secret conversation
But it’ not with you I am speaking through my heart.
I am talking with a friend of the days of my youth,
In your features I am searching for the other’ features,
In your living lips – the lips long since silent,
In your eyes – the fire of those faded eyes.
