If questioning would make us wise
No eyes would ever gaze in eyes;
If all our tales were told in speech
No mouths would wander each to each.
Were spirits free from mortal mesh
And love not bound in hearts of flesh
No aching breasts would yearn to meet
And find their ecstasy complete.
For who is there that lives and knows
The secret powers by which he grows?
Were knowledge all, what were our need
To thrill and faint and sweetly bleed?
Then seek not, sweet, the "If" and "Why"
I love you now until I die.
For I must love because I live
And life in me is what you give.
C.B.
2 kommentarer:
Du gräver fram vackra verser men dina egna ord är alltid vackrast. Brukar insupa dem med ett glas konjak och fundera på hur du doftar.
Sniff, sniff.
Skicka en kommentar