Why have you bloomed beside me again, O flower, After all these ages? Did you wait for me? Was it to swing open the window of my romantic fantasies once more? While the vermilion of love fades from the casket of my shattered heart... Was it to hold this butterfly to your chest, As it writhes in the furnace where my entire body burns? Was it to spread the sweet balm of comfort upon the stinging wounds of pain? Why do you bloom today and look at me with such a smile? One man snatched away my heart, And filled it with love as a blessing. In return, I gave him my very life, But time crushed every hope I cherished. While he went away somewhere, Taking with him the wedding thread I saved and the dreams I wove, Leaving me with nothing but unceasing breath and parched eyes... Unable to recognize if my heart still beats, Is it a seat you seek now, in these ears where the beetle hums? Is it an urge to add beauty to my hair, now devoid of all desire? Do you wish to stand guard with your red silk over my frantic thoughts? Is the deep red of the hibiscus—of which the poets sing—not enough? Are you seeking the fountain of blood that flows from my shattered heart? In this magical world of delusion, In the lightless chain of life, I stand draped in the veil of madness, And you stand beside me as its very symbol. To let go of the memories in my chest That throb with pain and burst into tears, It is better to become the 'madwoman' Who laughs wildly, forgetting her own mind... Since both of us have become equally 'mad' Without committing any crime, Do not call me by 'that' name alone— The name I do not deserve.