Will Not Come Back
Dark swallows will doubtless come back killing
the injudicious nightflies with a clack of the beak;
but these that stopped full flight to see your beauty
and my good fortune... as if they knew our names—
they’ll not come back. The thick lemony honeysuckle,
climbing from earthroot to your window,
will open more beautiful blossoms to the evening;
but these... like dewdrops, trembling, shining, falling,
the tears of day—they’ll not come back...
Some other love will sound his fireword for you
and wake your heart, perhaps, from its cool sleep;
but silent, absorbed, and on his knees,
as men adore God at the altar, as I love you—
don’t blind yourself, you’ll not be loved like that.
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