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3 LØSRIVELSE Jeg gir hende den lyse sommernatts bløde skjønhed. Over hende gyder jeg den forsvindende sols pragt; over hendes hår, over hendes ansigt, over hendes hvide dragt: skinnende guld. Jeg stiller hende mod det drømmende havet blå, med havstrandens bugtende slangeagtige linjer. Således går hun fra ham, der endnu intet fatter, men som i drømme føler hende fjerne sig. Langsomt beveget hun sig ned mot havet længre og længre vek. Han står midt i blodrøde blomster i de dybe blå, aftenskygger. Han fatter ikke ganske hvordan det er gått for sig. Mens selv da hun er forsvunnet over havet, føler han hvordan enkelte fine tråde sidder fast i hans hjerte, det bløder og smerter som et evig åbent sår. Da du forlod meg over havet, var det som endnu fine tråde forenede os; det sled som i et sår.
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3. SEPARATION
I give her the soft beauty of the summer night. Over her I pour the splendor of the setting sun; over her hair, over her face, over her white dress: shining gold. I picture her against the dreaming blue sea, with the undulating, serpentine lines of the seashore. Thus she leaves him, who still understands nothing, but as in a dream he feels her leaving. Slowly she walked down toward the sea, farther and farther away. He stands amidst blood-red flowers in the deep blue shadows of evening. He doesn’t fully grasp what has happened. Although she herself has disappeared across the sea, he feels how several fine threads are stuck in his heart; it bleeds and hurts like an open sore that does not heal. When you abandoned me there by the sea, it was as if fine threads still united us; it hurt as in a sore.
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