HER VIEW OF ME
Young man, you have often gone poaching in the wood of love
and many girls have lets themselves be caught in your arms.
But, when you boasted to your admiring friends about your successes,
I have felt sickened, because I am not just game existing for your pleasure and you would make me think that you and your friends are no more than sad little hunters of girls.
I know that chasing the girl you desire gives you a sense of power.
When you catch her, that girl who may be forcing herself to follow you,
you are perhaps, when you take her for yourself, taking her from somebody else. That other person msy be your friend and he may be dreaming, without even knowing it, that she is keeping herself for him like a rose on the rose-tree, not some cut flower.
The wood of my heart is very tender - as delicate as that of a young tree in springtime.
But you amuse yourself by scratching your name into my bark and you do not even know how deeply the knife penetrates, making the sap flow from my injured heart.
I have often defended myself agaist your attacks. Seeking refuge in my tower, pulling up the drawbridge. I am ofter afraid of your actions and your words trouble me even more.
They are able to cross even the deepest moat and bring you back to me when I do not want you.
You assure me that we have to seek pleasure and enjoyment.
But I am not you plaything and you are not mine and love is not just a game.
Pleasure may not be a forbidden fruit, but it is a fruit that has to ripen before it is picked and we should not steal from other people's orchard,
even if we have an accomplice to let us in by night.
You have often told me that we have to learn how to love, trying every means at our disposal, but it is wrong to think of girls as shoes to be tried on your feet,
one after another --- you, laughing with delight, until you find the right size and shape.
Nor is my body a piano keyboard for you to practice you scales.
So that later you can use another piano for the recital of your life.
You tell me that the greatest proof that I can give of my love is to open for you the doors of my secret rooms.
You are right, of course, I know that!
But, in the meantime, you say again and again you love me and you want to open them yourself and call for the keys.
But if you really loved me, you would put out your hand, tenderly and cautiously, gently seeking my hand and I would give them to you
and we would walk together, exchanging thoughts, taking about you and me. About people and about the world.
We would vist the country of our lives together and patiently strip off the covering that conceals our two hearts.
We would do this as soon as we came to know each other and long before we decided to make out two lives one.
But in the meantime, you tell me so many things and you are really wasting your time, because all others say the same thing.
It would be better for you to say honestly: " I am longing for you."
I would understand, because I have often longed for you to come.
Some misty or stormh evening my doors have been halk open and I have been waiting and looking for you and you would have been able to gather all the honey you desired and would not have had enough love in my heart to find strength to send you away.
But you are aware of my dream, my secret and my hard struggle.
You know that the door of life has been locked in my body by the fingers of nature and not just chance. Although others - not I - have smiled at the idea, I would like the first to cross the threshold to be the one my heart has chosen.
I would like to know, young man: surely you understand me!
But you know as well as I:
I am no stringer than any other girl
and so I need you very much -
as much as you need me.
I need to look at you, to be able to admire you and to be astonished when you I discover your hidden riches. I also need you to look patiently for mine,
for I am often afraid that what I bring to our union will not be enough to makethe man who will learn to lbe me rich.
I need you to tell me your thoughts, your feeling and your plans, so that I will not be agraid to tell you mine, because I know that there can be no love between those who keep secrets from each other!
I need to discover your strength,
so that I may learn that my gentleness is not weakness, but a necessary gift if your harshness is to be tempered. I need to prove that you have a heart beating in your breast by seeing in your eyes tears you are not afraid to let flow.
I need to see you fight to defend the rights of others, so that I can be sure that youw will also fight in the future for your love and for your own children.
I also need you to look at me and be for y side sometimes, so that I may know that I am more than someone you seek when you are bored.
I also need you to invite me to dance with you from time to time, so that I may know that my body is not just a dry brach to be thrown away, but a supple and living reed. To expirience the joy of holding your warm hand in mine and the hapiness of feeling your arm resting on my shoulder, so that I may know that young's mens arms are not just straps set to catch us.
and finally, young men, I need your friendship. Just as you need ours.
But I do not need you to tell me you love me.
I do not need to hear those insincere words,
because I may find it difficult to believe that they are true when the love I am waiting for comes and says them to me.
