Here' s a nice little poem by the Danish poet Henrik Nordbrandt. It appears in a book called called The Hand's Tremor in November, here in my own translation:
You, whom I love, and who thinks
that I love another.
I love you so intensely these days
because I have fallen for another.
An interesting idea, to be sure. Today, I had a series of experiences that made me feel something of what Pound noted down in his "In A Station of the Metro" (which, as I have noted before, is an anagram of "Of Another Tostian Item", but I digress...). What I felt can perhaps best be described with a poem that inverts, almost completely, Nordbrandt's notation:
You, who loves me, and I know
can't love another.
I fell for every girl I saw today
because you love me so intensely.
Not a work, I will grant, of first intensity. But noted down, in any case, for future reference.