Lacrimation
Until I am dried up,
hot tears meander down my cheeks—
how they burn.
Who knows my aches but the moon and stars at night?
Who knows my aches
but the wet pillow
under my head?
Who knows my aches but the candle,
its small flame holding my gaze?
Oh candle, like you I flicker—
When night comes,
Let it remain, sempiternal,
this sorrow the same.
Forget me—
as if I was never here,
as if all this was a dream.
Let me sink into oblivion
in this bed.