My soul is the bell of the temple,
struck with love by the bell-ringer.
A ring, ripped from the metal,
and the echo repeating itself endlessly.


Be a bell-ringer, don't hit me with your hands,
rather touch me with trembling oblivion.
Give me love and a fiery heart,
kindle embers in my eyes.


I'll be there, it'll take your breath away,
I will dissolve---tender and ethereal,
invisible, disembodied. I will wear
the bell-ringer's soul fully.