You

Catching sight of You, I go mute, listening only to the sound of Your voice. What torment had fate kept in store, to arrive without warning, without a knock? You don't know me — though Your servant here hasn't managed to understand himself one bit, either. Only this one aching note of feeling, though I've never once even wet my boot in love, I'm ready to dive headfirst into a swamp for it, into exile, into the eternal snows of Siberia. What am I saying — give my life for one glance from the scaffold… Perhaps I'm not rich, not famous, like some other man, but You, only You, I've taken in deeper than the soul… Only yesterday the universe still seemed so vast to me. I'll gather every star for You with a ladle. I'll stitch shut the gaping Black Hole. You're right, yes — now I truly can do anything. I'll bear Your fear, even if You're prone to tears, a little quick-tempered, cutting straight to the bone — well then, I need no other executioner. I'm ready to put my head under Your sword of Damocles… just to listen to Your uncertain voice, to be its endless, tireless hero, and let every tender glance come to me only through battle. You'll see for Yourself — I'm impossibly strong, and no doubt this is exactly what I was born for: to inspire You with my iron will, and to heal Your very being of its aching pains, and to faithfully guard Your inner peace, for as long as I have strength and breath left in me. My intentions are deadly serious, and here, on my knees, I beg You in tears: allow me to carry out everything fate has decreed… if only you decide to be with me.