Your Gesture is Written in my Soul

Your gesture is written in my soul,
and how much I want to write about you;
you wrote it by yourself, I read it
so alone, that even of you I keep myself in this.

In this I am and always will be;
that although it does not fit in me how much I see in you,
of so much good what I don't understand I think,
already taking faith for budget.

I was not born except to love you;
my soul has cut you to its measure;
out of habit of the soul itself I love you.

How much I have I confess I owe you;
I was born for you, for you I have life,
for you I must die, and for you I die.