Poem's Translation

Tonight I can write the most sorrowful lines.

I can write, for example: "The night is star-filled
and the blue stars are shivering in the distance."

The night wind turns in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the most sorrowful lines.
I loved her then, and sometimes she loved me back.

Through nights like tonight I held her in my arms.
I kissed her and kissed her under endless skies.

She loved me then, and sometimes I loved her back.
How could I not love her giant, still eyes?

Tonight I can write the most sorrowful lines.
I can think I'm not holding her. I can regret that I lost her.

I can hear the vast night, still vaster without her.
And the words settle on my soul like dew on the pasture.

It doesn't matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is star-filled and she is not with me.

That's all that matters. Someone is singing far away. Far away.
My soul cannot be content, because I have lost her.

As if they could bring her near, my eyes try to find her.
My heart searches for her, and she is not with me.

The same nightfall whitening the same trees.
But we have both changed so much since that night.

Surely I no longer love her, but how I once loved her.
My voice sought the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. As before I had kissed her.
Her voice, her pale body. Her endless eyes.

Surely I no longer love her, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short; memories last so long.

Because through nights like tonight I held her in my arms,
my soul cannot be content, because I have lost her.

Even if this is the last pain she makes me suffer,
and this is the last poem that I write for her.