To The Many

I -- am your voice, the warmth of your breath, I -- am the reflection of your face, The futile trembling of futile wings, I am with you to he end, in any case. That's why you so fervently love Me in my weakness and in my sin; That's why you impulsively gave Me the best of your sons; That's why you never even asked Me for any word of him And blackened my forever-deserted home With fumes of praise. And they say -- it's impossible to fuse more closely, Impossible to love more abandonedly. . . As the shadow from the body wants to part, As the flesh from the soul wants to separate, So I want now -- to be forgotten..