Come As You Are, Through Joy and Pain

Come as you wish, through sorrow and gladness,
I shall not abandon this love born of dreaming.

Come, for without you, I tire of the turning of time;
Come, for without you, my thoughts wander endlessly.

Come, for my nights are heavy with longing and pain;
Come, for within me, you are the dream of reunion.

I ask not for castles, nor treasures, nor crowns;
I ask for one moment of your gaze, one beautiful dream.

I ask only that you sit quietly beside me,
Without asking how fortune has treated my soul.

If you grow weary of the world's endless sorrow,
Lay your head on my shoulder and rest for a while.

If grief has settled in your beautiful eyes,
I shall listen to every unspoken story of pain.

If laughter should one day abandon your lips,
I shall become a little light in your fading night.

If time has wounded you deeply along the way,
I shall tend to your wounds without asking why.

If your garden has withered for want of rain,
I shall offer you love, not promises of the impossible.

If your road leads through the gateways of sorrow,
I shall walk beside you through every valley and shadow.

If people of this world should call me a fool,
I shall not surrender my heart to their judgment.

If your name is absent from the book of destiny,
I shall write another verse of love with my own hands.

If the wind should erase my name from your memory,
I shall keep yours alive in the emptiness of my heart.

If fate has destined us for distance and suffering,
Still, I shall honor this promise, sincere and pure.

I ask not for tomorrow's promises or sacred oaths;
I ask for one moment of honesty, without a quarrel.

I love the thought of you remaining free,
Without my asking you to stay or change who you are.

For love is not a desire to possess someone's lifetime,
Nor a wish to keep another imprisoned in one's arms.

Love is praying for your happiness from afar,
Even when reunion is not written in my destiny.

Love is rejoicing in the light that shines within you,
Even when your happiness carries me beyond my dreams.

Love is not wishing to see your eyes filled with tears,
Nor spending your laughter to silence my own despair.

Love is feeling the ache of your wounded heart,
Without laying upon you the burden of my own.

I came only to tell you, gently and sincerely,
May this world never empty your heart of kindness.

If someday you walk down this street and do not see
The man who once called your name with tenderness,

Know that a memory of you still lives within me,
Like the fragrance of a red rose upon an old carpet.

Perhaps one day, destiny itself will smile upon us;
Perhaps freedom will arrive to answer every question.

Perhaps I shall see you again, with your gentle smile,
Far from fear, sorrow, doubt, and illusion.

Perhaps you will ask me, one day, what I endured,
Through all those lonely years of waiting in silence.

I shall tell you I waited with a single hope:
That someday, you might open the curtains of your heart.

I shall tell you I never wished to make you mine,
Nor take away the freedom of your wings.

I only wished for you to remain who you are,
With all your sorrows, joys, colors, and imperfections.

I wished to see the world through your eyes one day,
And discover that beauty still lives upon this earth.

I wished to see you released from the weariness of life,
Forgetting your troubles, if only for a moment.

I wished you could sometimes feel that I was there,
A shelter for your heart amid this world's loneliness.

But what can I do? Distance has raised its walls
Between my heart and you, between my dreams and reunion.

I remain beside the window, with tears in the night;
I remain with memories of a love made of dreams.

Every night, I ask myself, where does this road lead?
How long must I wait for a hope that may never arrive?

How long shall I write poems about your eyes each night?
How long shall I surrender my heart to silence and doubt?

How long shall I imagine you returning from afar?
How long shall I carry this love without an answer?

And yet, I have never regretted loving you,
Though sorrow and silence may be all that remain.

For you have taught me the meaning of feeling,
How a wounded heart may still refuse to become empty.

You taught me that one can carry a thousand wounds
And still refuse to let bitterness take root.

You taught me how to love without demanding a reward,
Without turning affection into a battlefield of pride.

You taught me to write someone's name within my heart,
To keep it hidden, without demanding an explanation.

You taught me that in the silence of the night,
One can tell one's sorrow, perhaps tomorrow it will fade.

But no, if love means nothing but endless suffering,
What difference remains between love and a prison?

My heart, too, longs for tenderness returned;
My heart, too, longs for warmth, affection, and reunion.

My heart, too, longs for a gentle hand,
A safe shoulder, a warm breath, a peaceful soul.

My heart, too, longs for a day when love
Can be spoken without fear, without tears, without doubt.

My heart, too, longs to stand beside someone
And speak of love without a trembling voice.

My heart, too, longs for a home on a winter's night,
A little house, two hearts, and the scent of clay.

A window opening toward dawn and a garden of flowers,
Tea in two cups, and poems carried from the northern winds.

Not a lifetime spent merely watching the world,
But one devoted to understanding the beauty of love.

A lifetime beside someone whose heart is honest,
Where love is not a prisoner of uncertainty.

If someday I reach the end of this road,
I shall say how beautiful it is to awaken from dreams.

And if our paths should lead in different directions,
I shall never speak bitterly of you, nor call our story worthless.

For you were once a chapter in the book of my heart,
A chapter filled with wonder, sorrow, longing, and questions.

A chapter in which love taught me something profound:
Even a wounded heart can remain a source of beauty.

Come as you wish, through sorrow and gladness;
These were my first words, and now I have little left to say.

But if there is no news of your coming,
I shall not ask you to return against your will.

Be free, like a swallow carried upon the wind;
Your flight is more beautiful than my imagined love.

I shall love you without seeking to confine you,
Without placing chains upon your wings or walls around your heart.

Perhaps this was simply how I learned to love;
Perhaps this is the quiet dignity of an empty heart.

Perhaps this story has neither an ending nor reunion,
Only my destiny intertwined with an imaginary love.

And yet, my love, if you should ever return,
I shall open the door with a heart still warm with hope.

I shall not ask why you took so long to arrive,
Nor place upon your heart the weight of old questions.

I shall simply sit beside you in silence,
Until the weariness within you begins to disappear.

And if you wish to tell me your story,
I shall listen without demanding any answer.

Come as you wish, through sorrow and gladness;
My heart is still a place where you may find welcome.

If your love is only a dream, I shall not fear sleep;
If your love is far away, I shall not fear the distance.

But if one day you walk down this street again,
Follow your heart, not the burden of obligation.

I love it when your heart remains joyful,
Even if that happiness bears no trace of me.

This is all I wish to say—not a complaint,
Not a plea, nor a tale of suffering and blame.

Love is when tenderness survives within us,
Even amid distance, separation, and loneliness.

Come as you wish, through sorrow and gladness;
Let these words remain as a memory of love imagined.