And even when I smelt your body of stone in my fire
And wrest the ice from your hands, between our eyes
Persist whole wastes of snow that devour the night-traveller
As if you saw me through mist and moonlight
As if we had never met in hope and longing
Hope for love is a meeting ... where then did we meet?
Your naked body is torn open
Your breasts, beneath the roof of night, are torn by my nails
My ardor has torn apart all but the veils
Which hide within you what I desire
As if the blood I drink from you were salt
Whole draughts of it still not my thirst
Where is your passion?
Where your unbared heart ?
I bolt on you the gate of night, then embrace the gate
Conceal within it my shadow, memories and secret
Then search for you within my fire
And find you noy, find not your ashes in the burning flame
I will cast my self into the flame, If it burns or not
Kill me, that I may fell you
Kill the stone
With a shedding of blood, with a spark of fire
... or burn then without fire