Mistress...

Should these enamored words chance to meet your eyes

Or pass between your lips

The forgive me; it was your eyes

In whose shade one evening I leaned resting

And snatched brief slumber

In their repose I caressed the stars and moon

I wove a boat of fancy out of petals

And laid down my tired soul

Gave to drink my thirsty lip

Quenched my eye's desire.

***

Mistress...

When we met by chance as strangers meet

My sorrow too was walking on the road

Bare, unveiled

With heavy tread

You were my sorrow.

Sadness and loss

Silence and regret

Were embracing a poet consumed by struggle.

For poetry, mistress, is a stranger in my land

Killed by emptiness and void

My spirit trembled saw you

I felt suddenly as if a dagger delved into my blood

Cleanse my heart, my mouth

Prostrated me with soiled brow and supplicating hands

In the shade of your sweet eyes.

***

Mistress...

If suddenly we meet

If my eyes see those your eyes

High-set, green, drowned in mist and rain

If on the road by another chance we meet

And what is chance but fate?

Then would I kiss the road, kiss it twice.