As I once met a woman, near to a lake,
Near to a shore,
Near to a stream,
With the most delicate of leaves
Trembling, under the autumnal gaze
She gazed upon them, each of them,
Washing along the delicate road,
With her own delicate vision.
I bereaved a new tear, down upon my cheek,
With failure to my every word.
Because, I caused the negligence, to what I needed most.
A love, because I was loveless,
And a woman, here, to sate the thirst,
For my heart, that has thorns about its exterior.
I have felt only the many pains,
And the many lashes,
From life’s harsh coldness.
And now, here to see,
What is destined to be,
A woman for my cold scenery,
And to warm it, beautifully.
I am, in this entrancement, fully aware of what’s to come.
A golden kiss upon my heart of winter,
And next, for arms of ivory to wrap themselves
About me, in their shapes so slender.
She is a rose, who does not know,
Where love goes, upon when it will show.
Have I forced? Have I coerced?
Love does save, or am I overly brave?
I merely wish for a kiss, that which I cannot miss,
Because I am sad, and have never been glad.