The world comes on to me in cruelest guise,
Once, sympathy, it made me see as love,
Not known affection, or what would comprise,
I sought apt divination from above:
As fire that burns within, consumed my soul,
And left me embers, unrelenting glow,
Which may yet smolder, into flames in full,
If but breezes in my direction blow:
I'm king, holding your hand, basking in luck,
But fool enough, to let it free to go,
Now twice a fool, to try and catch it back,
Or thrice, when hesitant, I would be so:
....And when you left, without saying goodbye,
....You let fall upon me the entire sky.
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I would like to translate this poem