He desires and is desired, he inflames and burns at the same time. What he sees, he doesn't understand, but what he sees he is on fire for. What separates lovers is so small. From his own eyes he dies. "I am he. My own image doesn't deceive me. I am burning with love for myself. Oh, I wish I could leave my own body! But the two of us, together, in one breath we will die." Based on "Narcissus and Echo" from Book III of Ovid's Metamorphoses, translated by Marie Cosnay.