by Luis G. Dato

If I should come to grief because to you
Love is not love to earth’s censorious eyes,
Dreaming it sinful and profane with lies
Or that it fails in honor in your view;
If love must grieve because it missed its due,
And, unavailing, saw how you despise
Its vows to đarken its encircling skies,
And you not having, bids you its adieu —

Think not it takes to heart its bitterness
That love its utter gloom must consummate,
Nor seeing that its hopes you cannot bless,
The love you cruelly spurn should change to hate,
Though, without you, what greater loneliness,
And, without you, could there be a worse fate?

Denise Esteban

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