“And I watch my words from a long way off.
They are more yours than mine.
They climb on my old suffering like ivy.

It climbs the same way on damp walls.
You are to blame for this cruel sport.
They are fleeing from my dark lair.
You fill everything, you fill everything.

Before you they peopled the solitude that you
occupy,
and they are more used to my sadness than you are.

...But my words become stained with your love.
You occupy everything, you occupy everything.”