I have loved,
and so what need do I have of love?
Now I can scatter the petals of the flowers
into the distant sea.
Now I can watch others' clumsiness unsmiling.
Now I can dispense with my own awkward inclinations.
Now and only now I can remember
all the things that happened early
that it has been inadvisable for me to recall.
I have loved, and been loved,
and been unloved.
Though snowflakes stack anew on the cold earth,
they never again reach the high sky
from which they fell.