I only hope that your heart is the same as mine, and you will not live up to this mutual yearning.
Ah, there is love in life, and love is in the depths of madness. This is not irrelevant to hate-the wind overhead, the moon in the sky.
What occasion? See this lover.
May I be like a star, like the moon, shining every night.
Even if the ends of the earth are holding hands, thousands of miles of smoke and waves greet each other. This is the whole poem. From The Book of Songs