by Luis G. Dato
At times I see a gleaming white-sailed boat,
With soundless oar glide past a lake shore wild,
Where in profusion strange were strangely piled
White lilies such as fairies might have wrought;
At times transported to such shores remote,
My sighing soul with dreams is quite beguiled,
With thinking of you, Love’s beloved child,
On seas rover, o’er blue lakes afloat.
What joy to live with you where day awakes
The seas and mountains with her roseate smiles,
Where we may sail the fair, unruffled lakes
Below a red sky past enchanted isles,
Below green bowers watch the water-snakes,
Hear the lambs bleat while roar the crocodiles.