by Luis Dato
I sought you always in the world’s wide places,
In piers and palaces, the roaring street.
Where the world’s pilgrims worn with aching feet,
Seek as I sought you mid strange, unknown faces.
Albeit I found you not, but only traces
Of where you passed, a memory vague and sweet,
And in despair knew that if we should met,
It would not be this earth our sun embraces.
I sought you in the fragrance strange of roses,
In the elusive phantom of a dream,
Through fiery portals where day has its closes,
In subtle light of stars and things that seem
You’re ever elsewhere like a fancy flown.
Till suddenly we find ourselves alone.
