You have been my love for so many years, br My giddiness before so much waiting, br Which nothing can age or cool; br Even that which awaited our death, br Or slowly learned how to fight us, br Even that which is strange to us, br Both my eclipses and my returns. br br Closed like a box-wood shutter, br An extreme and compact chance br Is our chain, our mountain-range, br Our compressing splendor and glow. br br I say chance, O my hammered one; br Either of us can receive br The mysterious part of the other br While keeping its secret unshed; br And the pain that comes from elsewhere br Finds its separation at last br In the flesh of our unity, br Finds its solar orbit at last br At the center of our own cloud br Which it rends and starts once more. br br As I feel it, I say chance. br You have raised up the mountain-peak br Which my waiting will have to clear br When tomorrow disappears.