The only love is public love; in public you will know
It is love. Otherwise, hide. Otherwise, go.
In private realms, hate, as well as love, breeds
And privately even love has its unkind needs,
So public love is the only thing love knows.
Even privately, love is not love unless it shows,
And since hate has its reasons—let’s see
What they are. Nothing is proven privately.
Privacy is for slumber and fantasy
And I love to sleep. But my poetry
Will only be good if I agree
In public to love you privately.
This is why I steal away to you at night
With my poetry and my wishes and my light.