My gentle snare, my dearest one,
I recognize myself in your desires
Up to a point—
 
I follow you obediently on your paths,
Up to the crossroad.
 
Striding along afterwards, I outrun you
Blazing in dancing flames, blue swords,
Scattering myself over the horizon,
At sunset—
 
As frightened,
You lock yourself into your hard ways,
As in a grotto of ice.