“Speak low if you speak love.”

William Shakespeare

I wilt nay let thee fall with me,
I’ve an obnoxious portrait come to thee:
A path of loneliness and despair
Many nights awaking without me;
Many eves thirst seeking to be quench,
Empty vessels wouldst dry thee.

I wilt nay let thee fall with me,
Mine wings wouldst be taking thee high one day
Just to drop thee the next one from a high peak
And hit thee down over dark stones,
Dead soil, hard to leave.

I wilt nay let thee fall with me,
Thou wouldst dreaming every day
But the nothingness and woe awaits
With the embrace I’ll never give,
With meadows and spring waters
We wilt never be able to see.

And just seeing thy face wilt hurt me deep
As I’ve loved thee too, but mine way.
Alas, delicate creature!
Alas, naive bud of beauty!
Thou art…