If your eyes be mine, then let me be blind;
If your voice does belong to me, strike me dumb;
If your fingers my thoughts expression find,
Then I have no need at all for either thumb.
If your garb befit my limb, they are my guise;
If your beauty is naught, then have I ill-complexion;
If against your desires, let them all be vice;
If you are my Muse, you are its only reflection.
If you be the trill, I’m the nightingale;
If you be the wind, then I am just the spark;
If you are the laugh, I must be the wail,
Then because of your light I need be the dark.
Where am I, you shall forever exist;
For, for the one’s lack, either shall desist.