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Solveig's Song Woman's life is like a dinner Cooked and cooled, While waiting for her man. Then heated again several times Till he finally comes home, But the dinner is ruined, Like her mood. My mood is ranging From joy and high expectations To sadness and disappointment Till it's dead when you reach me In our disintegrating home My life of a woman. No, we will never write together. I will write (it is a lonely business) And you will be somewhere else Working overtime, striving for excellence. Your love for me will be sublimated Into love for humankind, and posterity. I could have been loved Here and now, As an ordinary woman By an ordinary man. But I am aglow with love For you And you are too busy to recognize it. I don't need a genius, an ambitious man, Idealist and a dreamer, Who wants to touch the world. I don't want to be loved by God or Christ, only, but by an ordinary, loving man who needs me and wants me here and now, not in eternity, who may love me for a limited time only, but who, like me, believes that maybe, just maybe, we can touch humanity and love eternally by loving one human being. |