O look, look in the mirror
O look in your distress
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless

O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart

You shall love your crooked neighbor with you crooked heart.

so I wait for you like a lonely house
till you will see me again and live in me.
Till then my windows ache.

You will hear thunder and remember me,
And think: she wanted storms. The rim
Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.

Oh, come forth into the storm and rout
And be my love in the rain.

When your heart is broken, you plant seeds in the cracks and pray for rain.

As one long prepared, and graced with courage,
as is right for you who were given this kind of city,
go firmly to the window
and listen with deep emotion, but not
with the whining, the pleas of a coward;
listen — your final delectation — to the voices,
to the exquisite music of that strange procession,
and say goodbye to her, to the Alexandria you are losing.

What I know about living is the pain is never just ours
Every time I hurt I know the wound is an echo
So I keep a listening to the moment the grief becomes a window
When I can see what I couldn’t see before,
through the glass of my most battered dream, I watched a dandelion lose its mind in the wind
and when it did, it scattered a thousand seeds.

So the next time I tell you how easily I come out of my skin, don’t try to put me back in
just say here we are together at the window aching for it to all get better

Seaside gusts of wind,
And a house in which we don't live,
And the shadow of a cherished cedar
In front of a forbidden window...
Perhaps there is someone in this world
To whom I could send all these lines. Well then!
Let the lips smile bitterly
And a tremor touch the heart again.

Brother, stand the pain.
Escape the poison of your impulses.
The sky will bow to your beauty, if you do.
Learn to light the candle. Rise with the sun.
Turn away from the cave of your sleeping.
That way a thorn expands to a rose.

Alas, I have grieved so I am hard to love.
Yet love me — wilt thou? Open thine heart wide,
And fold within, the wet wings of thy dove.

From looking at your neighbor and realizing his true significance, and that he will die, pity and compassion will arise in you for him and finally you will love him.

I will soothe you and heal you,
I will bring you roses.
I too have been covered with thorns.

Why are you still crying?
Your pain is now through
Please forget those teardrops
Let me take them for you
The love you are blessed with
This world's waiting for
So let out your heart please, please
From behind that locked door