There is a sacred boundary between those who are close

And it cannot be crossed by passion or love—

Though lips fuse in dreadful silence

And the heart shatters to pieces with love.

Friendship is helpless here, and years

Of exalted and ardent happiness,

When the soul is free and a stranger

To the slow languor of voluptuousness.

Those who strive to reach it are mad, and those

Who reach it—stricken by grief …

Now you understand why my heart

Does not beat faster under your hand.