When I see you sitting all by yourself

When I see you sitting all by yourself,

engrossed in your thoughts,

with your head somewhat lowered,

withdrawn from the crowd and from me,

then I often want to greet you, to interrupt

your moodiness; but my weakened voice,

excessively fearful, stays back

in my mouth, leaving me mute.

I cannot stand the brilliance of your appearance;

my soul quivers timorously in my body;

my tongue and vocal cords do not function.

Only my sighs, only my sad face

speak for me; and such passion

gives sufficient evidence of my love.