I have built my own private meaning
with the help of light.
I have decorated sinful thoughts
with words - I wish to dedicate
them to you.

What to choose: closeness of the heart
or distance of the soul?
The experiences are obscure,
defective, unwanted.
I try to find you among
the few heartbeats - you disappear
before eternity is seen.

My crooked conscience, the struggle
for joy - these are just a handful
of coincidences, a few tears
that I have given to the needy.

Don't be too sinful - I have found you,
although another era has passed,
and the light has become
too long a shadow.

I will fall asleep before
you manage to find the right time;
I will perish as long as
I feel the aftertaste of your longing.