Was not your clay and mine
Co-mixed before our birth?
Is not your laugh and kind regard
The very substance of my mirth?
Does not your every tear
Drown my treasure ship?
It's not your form nor fame, My Love
That is the object of my worship.
It seems that you and I
Were from the same clay formed.
You breathe, I sigh; your heart, my beat
You came... my world has been transformed.