I—am your voice, the warmth of your breath,

I—am the reflection of your face,

The futile trembling of futile wings,

I am with you to the end, in any case.

That’s why you so fervently love

Me in my weakness and in my sin;

That’s why you impulsively gave

Me the best of your sons;

That’s why you never even asked

Me for any word of him

And blackened my forever-deserted home

With fumes of praise.

And they say—it’s impossible to fuse more closely,

Impossible to love more abandonedly…

As the shadow from the body wants to part,

As the flesh from the soul wants to separate,

So I want now—to be forgotten.