“Pain has an element of  emptiness” 
Emily Dickinson

Is there a first star shining in the twilight
or a cry of shadows after sunset on the beach?
A stream – how it jumps over sick rocks,
a heap of sorrow – it has nothing more to tell us…

Is there responsibility for hopes?
When I was young, they lulled me to sleep.
What should I do now? I light my candle
but it hurts, I’m almost cold from the pain…

When we love and life rejoices –
as if everything is full of color and mirages.
When it hurts, the heart is an empty glass,
There is no medicine for sleep. What can it tell you?

I am not responsible for my age,
evening, but strong – without tears and cries.
I am only responsible for my Love –
what I do with it, and how it can warm you.