Upon This Earth

Looking by chance in at the open window

I saw my own self seated in his chair

With gaze abstracted, furrowed forehead,

Unkempt hair.

 

I thought that I had suddenly come to die,

That to a cold corpse this was my farewell,

Until the pen moved slowly upon paper

And tears fell.

 

He had written a name, yours, in printed letters:

One word on which bemusedly to pore---

No protest, no desire, your naked name,

Nothing more.

 

Would it be tomorrow, would it be next year?

But the vision was not false, this much I knew;

And I turned angrily from the open window

Agahst at you.

 

Why never a warning, either by speech or look,

That the love you cruelly gave me could not last?

Already it was too late: the bait swallowed,

The hook fast

Songtext: Sylvian, David