Rehab part I --- the question

My whole existence is a token of darkness,
This takes you constantly
To the dawn of eternal blossoming and burgeoning.
Me sigh you in this token, sigh!
Me graft you, in this token, onto the tree, the water and the fire

Life is perhaps the obstructed instant
That my sight devastates itself in the gleam of your eyes
And there is a sense in this devastation
That I will merge with the perception of the moon and the darkness.

In a room, as big as a loneliness,
My compassion, as big as a love,
Is reviewing its plain excuses for happiness:
The beautiful withering of flowers in a vase;
The sapling that you planted in our garden;
The melody of canaries, which goes as far as the edge of the window;
Ah!
Is this my share?
Is this my share?
Is this my share: a sky that hanging a curtain will take it away from me?