As one says, another answers and I go

My emotions are barbarious, one would say
and so are my moves, my countenance --
someone who felt less might overcome it,
be calm and gentle, be all property.

When you said forget-me-not -- I,
I seconded it most ardently -- woe is me!
One who did not still feel your body close might,
might let go with easiness that it is not mine.

And one would say I am giving too much
because I don't smile anymore, I carry you with me.

Someone who was less sensitive could do
away with all the grieveous feelings you have.
Someone, then, would not grieve over your grief and your
trials and your - yours which are mine as well.

My lament is unheard, one would say,
for you do not see me, you see yourself --
one who trusted less could believe in it and
could let go of you and could stop all.

But when I see you -- one could say many things --
and someone who cared about us less might turn away.
As for me, I hear that my emotions are altogether too much.
My feelings are barbarious, they say.

But someone who loved you less...