Go back to poetry list

Monologue

Running from oneself is good-for-naught,
Be it London, Paris or New York,
Far-off backwoods or a distant croft,
Even higher quarters of Skyloft.
On the whole earth I couldn’t find
Any place to get you off my mind,
Be it a high cliff, a cave, a lake –
Everywhere I go I see your shape.

From all quarters I can hear your voice…
I would miss a beat and face the choice:
To step back and bar all thoughts of love…
But my inner self says: “Come to life!
Don’t run – there is no escaping fate:
Love would find its way through any gate,
All strongholds surrender when it comes,
All the great turn vulnerable ones!”

So be it: let me burn away –
You are on my mind day after day.