By Luis G. Dato
I think sometimes of flowers once perfuming,
The scarlet alleys of my yester-years,
And then again, an aureate form assuming,
Their memory brings a memory of tears.
Here once beneath dark-green acacia branches,
How gilded golden in the gleaming dawn,
Here when young sephyr lulled my first romances,
Was murmured music sweeter than its own.
Beloved! like a halo of fresh morning
From Heaven bearing fragrances for you,
Come roses of remembrances adorning,
Our love’s first tryst, and our love’s first adieu.
And then, when with oncoming seasons fretful,
The days forgot what I within would not,
When in the quiet of the heart regretful,
The wings of fancy with desire were fraught,
Then time it was when to the fragile, slender
Reincarnation of a poet’s sighs,
I whispered tokens of endearment tender,
Which made of earth another Paradise!
O fancies in remembrance unrelenting,
Resurging aureate with the flying years,
I think of all your faded flowers scenting
The scarlet pathways of my life of tears.
