For those good things I love fire

and black silver stars

behind the belt of the night.

Black silver and old words,

by which they were knights:

Withstand these three punches and no more.

Of those good things I love the day,

when spring puts bridle on good horses,

blue bridles

and pink saddles.

Every year he returns,

Spring is a good intention.

For those good things I love our love,

the old one that doesn't rust,

and I tell you again and again:

It's yesterday

will be today

and it was tomorrow.

Withstand these three punches and no more.

I can hide behind a cloud mask

I can laugh

eagerly I go to a funeral in a white coat

and I want to get married in black clothes

I can lie to you until dark

I can disappear into the flutter of wings

And I am looking for what is no longer

consumed by the remnants of eaten food

I can draw with chalk from ashes

I can break your heart with words

With pleasure I do what is not done

by happy women, crying widows

I can send in the wind myself

I can die in your arms

But nudity is bloody beast and

no one is liable for love.

I can get lost in the fields

I can sing without reason

Once you understand what hurts

and let me go home.