Come in out of the rain thou sayest - but thou ne´er step´st aside
And I am trapp´d
A distance there is...
None, save me and the bodkin - pitter-patter on the roof
Behold! ´tis not the rain, thence me it has to be
I will not drink thy vintage wine, my dear
Thou hast heed´d that I am of innocence, yet thou let´st thy lass into peril

Thou let´st me be parched
My heart is of frailty, my pale skin is hued damask.
When thou thy tears hast hidden, "Come back!", thou sayest
There I soon am to be, but how am I to run when my bones, my heart!
Thou hast me bereaft!
But run thou sayest, I run
And there and then I behold that a time will come when I again dead will be.
Thou tell´st me to leave without delay
I leave with my bodkin and my tears in my hands;
Lo! the shadows, the sky descending;
So by a dint of smite I gait ere I run and melt together with dusk.
In my mind in which is this event,
But it seems as if naught is to change anyway?!
After all these years thou left´st me down in the emotional depths
The sombre soaked velvet-drape is hung upon me,
Turning my feelings away from our so ignorant world
All the beatiful moments shared, deliberatlely push´d aside
A distance there is...