My boy, our boy, is dead. I have no one left to love; no one in the world, except you. But what can you be to me — you who have never, never recognized me; you who stepped across me as you might step across a stream, you who trod on me as you might tread on a stone; you who went on your way unheeding, while you left me to wait for all eternity? Once I fancied that I could hold you for my own; that I held you, the elusive, in the child. But he was your son. In the night, he cruelly slipped away from me on a journey; he has forgotten me, and will never return. I am alone once more, more utterly alone than ever. I have nothing, nothing from you. No child, no word, no line of writing, no place in your memory. If anyone were to mention my name in your presence, to you it would be the name of a stranger. Shall I not be glad to die, since I am dead to you? Glad to go away, since you have gone away from me?

Beloved, I am not blaming you. I do not wish to intrude my sorrows into your joyful life. Do not fear that I shall ever trouble you further. Bear with me for giving way to the longing to cry out my heart to you this once, in the bitter hour when the boy lies dead. Only this once I must talk to you. Then I shall slip back into obscurity, and be dumb towards you as I have ever been. You will not even hear my cry so long as I continue to live. Only when I am dead will this heritage come to you from one who has loved you more fondly than any other has loved you, from one whom you have never recognized, from one who has always been awaiting your summons and whom You have never summoned. Perhaps, perhaps, when you receive this legacy you will call to me; and for the first time I shall be unfaithful to you, for I shall not hear you in the sleep of death. Neither picture nor token do I leave you, just as you left me nothing, for never will you recognize me now. That was my fate in life, and it shall be my fate in death likewise. I shall not summon you in my last hour; I shall go my way leaving you ignorant of my name and my appearance. Death will be easy to me, for you will not feel it from afar. I could not die if my death were going to give you pain.

我的孩子，我们的孩子死了。再也没有人让我去爱了，这个世界上再也没有人了，除了你。可是你是我的什么人呢-你从来没有，从来没有认出我是谁；你走过我身边，犹如跨过一条小溪；你踩到我身上，犹如踩在一块石头上；你总是无所顾忌地走你的路，却让我永远地等待着。曾经我以为把你抓住了。我抓住了你，你这飘忽不定的人，在孩子身上抓住了你。可他是你的儿子。一夜之间他就这样残忍地扔下我，悄悄地走上了他的旅途，他已经忘了我，永远不会回来了。我又是孤零零一个人，比以往任何时候都孤单。我一无所有，没有任何来源于你的东西。没有孩子，没有一个字，没有一句话，在你的记忆中没有一丁点位置。倘若有人在你面前提到我的名字，对你而言也只不过是个陌生人的名字而已。既然我对你来说已经死了，我又为何不乐意死去呢？既然你已离我而去，我又何必不离去呢？

亲爱的，我不是在怨你。我不想让我的悲伤侵入你快乐的生活。不要担心我会再麻烦你。现在我的孩子死了，躺在那里，在这令人痛苦的时候，我渴望向你吐露我的心事，只此一次，请耐心听我说说吧。就这一次我必须要和你说说。然后我会悄然回到我晦暗的世界中去，不再作声，就像我一直对你保持沉默那样。可是只要我还继续活着，你就听不到我的呼喊。只有等我死去，你才会收到这份遗物，这份来自一个比其他所有人都爱你的女人的遗物，这个女人你从来没有认出来过，她始终在等着你的召唤，可你从来也没有召唤过她。也许，也许你收到这份遗物后会来找我，而我会第一次对你不忠，因为我已经永远长眠，听不到你的呼唤了。我没有给你留下任何照片，没有给你留下任何的纪念品，就像你什么也没给我留下一样，因为你现在永远也认不出我了。我活着的命远如此，死后的命迹也是一样。我不想叫你在我最后的时刻来看我。我会自己离开，而你也不会知道我的姓名和我的样子。我会死得很轻松，因为你在远方，不会感到我的死亡。要是我的死会使你痛苦，我就无法死去了。