My love, Diodorus, is like a spring
Storm, of the ﬂuid sea’s engendering.
You imitate a thundercloud, then after
The weather clears, your eyes brim with soft laughter.
Like a castaway who counts the steep
Waves, I am tempest-tossed upon the deep;
Give me, that I may know in which direction
To swim, marks of aversion or affection…
You say that you love rain,
but you open your umbrella when it rains…
You say that you love the sun,
but you find a shadow spot when the sun shines…
You say that you love the wind,
But you close your windows when wind blows…
This is why I am afraid;
You say that you love me too…
Arouse the tiger of Hyrcanian deserts,
Strive with the half-starved lion for his prey;
Lesser the risk, than rouse the slumbering fire
Of wild fanaticism.