I write?
I can not
My soul left
My body fell.

Without you by my side
present here
Your body here
Your soul there.
 

Your head here
A glass of wine there
Your mind to fly
"Maybe I am concerned" - I think

The piano cries unused
white keys trickle down
Unite black
pure gray.

The birds no longer sing
My pen does not scratch paper
I get more old?

Impossible.

Your tears trickle down
Fall on my body
"I miss you" - You say.
The violin does not play alone.

I find myself
cold hands under the belly
Heavy eyes, not open.
Write in this life can not.

But maybe in death
Get again
Escape from this evil
Which afflicts me ...