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.