However closely you touch me... When, unhappy, happy, I wander past, You are to me like a dream...---Hvor tett du berører meg ... Hvor, ulykkelig, glad, jeg vandrer forbi, du er for meg som en drøm ...--- Aber genau du berührst mich ... Wann, unglücklich, glücklich, ich wandere vorbei, du bist mir wie ein Traum ... --- Quoi qu'il en soit, tu me touche ... Quand, malheureux, heureux, je me promène, Tu es pour moi comme un rêve ...

I love things with a wild passion, 
extravagantly,
I cherish tongs,
and scissors;
I adore
cups,
hoops,
soup tureens,
not to mention
of course --- the hat.
I love
all things,
not only the
grand,
but also
the infinitely
small;
the thimble,
spurs,
dishes,
vases.

Oh, my soul,
the planet
is radiant,
teeming with
pipes
in hand,
conductors
of smoke;
with keys,
saltshakers,
and well,
things crafted
by the human hand,
everything---
the curves of a shoe,
fabric,
the new bloodless
birth
of gold,
the eyeglasses,
nails,
brooms,
watches, compasses,
coins, the silken plushness of chairs.

Oh
humans
have constructed
a multitude of pure things;
objects of wood,
crystal,
cord,
plastic,
wondrous tables,
ships, staircases.

I love 
all
things,
not because they might
be warm or fragrant,
but rather because---
I don't know why...