I can touch living things and cry out for them;
I can eat cheap and rotten food, and live on desire.

I can move around on the flying Earth
and hurl my tears onto things that won't move.

But I can't cling to you, a fellow creature;
because you want to be free of embraces,
the embraces that you used to want.

I can't make you want to live, to seek,
to plunge amazingly, into this thing, me,
which is waiting for you.