There Is No New York Today

Hari-hari membakar habis diriku. Setiap kali aku ingin mengumpulkan tumpukan abuku sendiri, jari-jariku berubah jadi badai angin. Dan aku mengerti mengapa cinta diciptakan--

The days incinerate me. But each time I try to gather the heap of my ashes, my fingers change to wind.

And I understand why love was created.