Even the sun must leave us,
and bow before the greying times
between worlds of night and day;

Then even the night must leave us
when colors return, the dew is gone,
and beauty takes the breath of eyes away.

And all must endure parting,
a given sorrow, a condition of life:
the ordained and chosen Way.

For if not good-bye, how hello?
If not distance, how reunion?
Without going, how to come and stay?

I drink the sweet poison,
now turning my fingers numb,
in order that, knowingly, I may say:

Everything divided must rejoin --
else the meaning of our separation
would not give such cause to pray.