Mar. 15, 2010
Youth in all its sweetness comes Running to my open door, And I with arms of joy outstretched Embrace her beauty and adore. Day falls into languid night The tropic heat a furnace grows As wondrous eyes gaze at me With love that would my heart enclose. The seasons bring their transience, With dew-filled morns and auguries, Of gardens winking in the sun And wind-swept earth that coats the trees. How many dawns are left to play In the flower-fields that call to me I reckon not nor do I care For I am young and young shall be, Her love all shattered grief repairs With loveliness that love bestows Of perfumed jasmine and peony And on this heart, her gift of rose.
For Huta
Poems Undated (1727)
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