Without you, this April’s sky grows old.
Sorrows come and go, flow, and I taste the luxury of woe.
A wild clove sheltering in your hair-
You’ll of course love me!

In your eyes thousands of small suns
Have set fire to darkness and light.
I can do without you today, but what about tomorrow-
You’ll of course love me!

I jumped over you, I jumped over myself,
Beyond myself, I jumped over life,
Beyond life, I jumped over death –
I opened my arms to embrace you:
You’ll of course love me!