Hesitant, as if forgotten by my selves, The morning breeze caresses the field, and the sun begins to glimmer. Let us, My friend, nor wish in this hour for more sun than this or for a stronger breeze than the one that is small and exists.

No one loves anyone else;
he loves what he finds of himself
    in the other,
Don't fret if others don't love you.
They feel who you are,
and you're a stranger.
Be who you are,
even if never loved.
Secure in yourself,
you will suffer
    Few sorrows.