I want the flower you are, not the one you never give.Why refuse me what I'm not asking you for ? You'll have time to refuse after you've given. Flower, be my flower ! If in this unyielding state the dire sphinx's hand should pluck you, you'll roam forever, an absurd shadow, seeking what you didn't give.

I don't want the presents which,
Contrary to your intention, are
the very denial of what you give.
You give me what I'll lose,
weeping its loss twice over,
as something of you and of me.

Promise it instead, without giving
me anything,
since then the loss will occur
in my hopes more than in my memory.

My only displeasure will be
the continual one of living,
since the days pass and what's 
hoped for still doesn't come,
and it's nothing...