When I am not with you,
I am alone,
For there is no one else
And there is nothing
That comforts me but you.
When you are gone
Suddenly I am sick,
Blackness is around me,
There is nothing left.
I have tried many things,
Music and cities,
Stars in their constellations,
And the sea—
But there is nothing
That comforts me but you.
And my poor pride bows down
Like grass in a rain-storm,
Drenched with my longing.
The night is unbearable,
Oh let me go to you,
For there is no one,
There is nothing
To comfort me but you.