I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
I love you only because it’s you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of changing love for you
Is that I do not see but love you blindly.
Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.
In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.
This is one my favorite English poem ever. I don’t remember the author’s name because I read it when I was in grade 9. Fortunately, I found out that I typed it in my laptop somehow.