Far, but not farther;
near, but no nearer than my thoughts.
Every lonely night, I wonder at the wandering moon —
but the question is: where are you, my soul?
At times, I too fear the distance,
broader than any other memory;
harder it is to feel, like any rock —
yet everything is like a flowing river.
A pebble, and a trembling heart,
both adrift in a spring of flowing tears,
from end to end — but this journey will never last.
I am travelling all night for your return,
like the moon that falls only to rise above the horizon,
wrapped all around in clouds of love —
but life is not a question of mine alone.
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