By Luis G. Dato
Having you close at hand, what gladness
To feel one straying, scented curl,
In your heart’s wine, what intense madness
This wish for oneness with the pearl!
Your hands, your hands, are soft as roses,
They are a silken paradise,
Where death is not, where dream discloses
To life its endless witcheries.
Your voice has quiet music hidden
Such as no mortal ever hears,
But feels must seek, distraught and bidden,
The lure that ever disappears.
It is a feeling past governing,
When your breath I feel on my own,
The senses can have no discerning
How vain the wish we were alone!
Alone with you, no company,
Only the amphora of life,
Our souls to blend in symphony
And fade above a city’s strife!
