I tried to write everything
That is between you and me:
Our talkings, our silences.
Everything what I think,
What I feel, what I hope,
What I would like and what I dream,
What I experience, what I prove,
What I fear and what I love,
What we screamed and what remained secret,
What I think I have understood
And what I know I am not able to understand;
Everything what, in any case, … has built and is ‘US’.
Then I have removed all that is not essential,
Everything that is scary,
All that which is not sincere enough,
I mean unmentionable, unconfessable, intimate;
Everything that doesn’t matter,
Everything that cannot anyway be forgotten
Because printed inside,
Everything may be misunderstood or lost.
At the end, what is left is this:
I’M HAPPY WHEN YOU ARE HAPPY
I’M SAD WHEN YOU ARE SAD
AND MOST OF THE TIME, I MISS YOU …
While I wait silently for a word from you
In the presence of your absence,
Trying to write everything
That is between me and you.
The ‘poet’ in love.