I had to do it

I had to do it,
celebrate a year today;
any day as always,
just today though the pie is rancid and I am not going to eat it.

I wanted to blow a candle for all those I didn't blow.
It was a very busy year,
agreements and disagreements, books, coffee, and movies,
some tears and more coffee.

The lakes and walks in Copenhagen, always Copenhagen.
That's not true, there were also Barcelona, Paris and some more places,
some you and too much of me.

But I wanted to point out the smiles,
sore cheeks that I had,
special moments and encounters,
because of the rest have already been written and said too much.

I had to do it, celebrate one more year,
hugs and plundering of useless things
and vicious circles.

But I had to do it, though the cake is rancid,
and I am not going to eat it.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, 'The night is shattered,
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, and sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes?
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her,
And the verse falls to the snow like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
That night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.

My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that is certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes,
I no longer love her, that is certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer,
and these the last verses that I write for her.