I do not love you, but I love you.
I go from wanting you to not wanting you,
Hoping for you when I do not hope for you.
My heart passes from the frost into the fire.
I love you only because you are who I love.
I hate you endlessly; hating you, I pray to you.
The measure of my wandering love
Is to not see you and so to love you like a blind man.
Maybe the January light will devour
My heart entire with its cruel ray,
Stealing from me the key to peace.
I can only die in this story,
Die of love because I love you,
Because I want you, Love, in blood and fire.