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He whom you loved, as if he had given you
The only safe spot in an overwhelmed world.
He is gone—he who alone understood how to open
The door of your heart.
“I would entreat you for one thing, oh, my beloved!—
Lay not on me the burden of hate!
The weakest of all weak things is it not a human heart?
How should it then endure the awful thought
That it is a torment to others?
Oh, my beloved, if you would kill me,
Seek not daggers or poison or rope;
“Let me but know that you would have me turn
From earth’s green fields, from the kingdom of life,
And I will sink into my grave.
You gave me the life of life, you gave me love,
But you take your love again. Oh, I know it well,
But turn it not to hate!
Oh, remember—I would still live—
Yet I would die beneath the burden of hate.”
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