Untamed
Even the stars can be measured,
their mysteries and influences.
Her body can be lovingly touched,
but not her deep longings,
those can never be known by science.
Lassoes can catch the wild horses fleeing over the hills,
but not even magic potions can hold a wild beloved,
who has stopped loving her lover.
The ink of love songs washes off in the rain,
but the love itself, that which cannot be written down,
stays inside HERE ...
If my lover gives up all to study the mysteries,
I'll take the holy path too.
I'll live all alone and forget how I love her.
In meditation, the face of truth isn’t clear,
but your face is, smiling this way and that.
The swan wants to stay longer, and longer, with the lake it loves.
But when ice covers the surface, the swan flies, with no regrets.
What appears in Spring fades in Fall.
The blue-green bees don't mourn their destiny.
What I want is a word from the stream of your being.
I often see my lover in dreams.
I will ask a shaman to search there and bring her back to me.
Three baby steps and I am drunk in your arms.
I know your body, but not your love.
Drawing pictures in the sand
to measure great distances through the sky ...
Will we be always together?
After so many nights you still run loose through the hills.
If we live forever, if wine never stops pouring,
if this tavern keeps standing, sheltering us,
is that enough?
We had our short walk together, this joy.
Let's hope we meet early in the next life, as young lovers ...
I'm sorry for what I have done.
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