I don’t need legs anymore,
Let them turn into a fish’s tail!
I’m swimming and the coolness is delightful,
The far-off bridge grows dimly white.
I don’t need a submissive soul,
Let it turn into smoke, a wisp of smoke
Of tender, light blue
Flying over the blackened quay.
See how deeply I dive,
Clutching seaweed in my hands,
No one’s words will I repeat
And no one’s longing will capture me …
But you my distant one, is it true
That you’ve become sadly mute and pale?
What’s this I hear? That for three whole weeks
You’ve been whispering” “Why, unhappy girl?”