Oh, to cast my eyes
On someone as elegant
As she must be
To touch
Something as angelic
As the fingers she dangles
So nonchalantly from the opening
Of the chariot
She rides
Oh sweet beauty
Would that you were mine to hold.
What I would do
For the chance to see that face
The one so many look over
And pass by
Every day
Simple fools they must be
To pass by
The face that must out-shine
Even the stars
On one of those
Lovely fingers
Resides a ring
It symbolizes eternity.
Who was the giver of this gift?
Oh, gods above,
Do not let someone else have stolen
The heart
Of this angel.
Have mercy on me
A peasant
Pining over
This woman.
You should be
The one with a crown
My darling
The one wearing jewels
And many lovely gowns
And yet
Alas
You were born a servant
Doomed
To be overlooked
Though you are more beautiful
Than the sun.
Be still my heart,
My soul
My darling, I beg of you to have me
For I can clearly see
Though your face be veiled
That you, indeed are glorious
In your beauty.
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 11:29 PM UTC
Oh, to cast my eyes
On someone as elegant
As she must be
To touch
Something as angelic
As the fingers she dangles
So nonchalantly from the opening
Of the chariot
She rides
Oh sweet beauty
Would that you were mine to hold.
What I would do
For the chance to see that face
The one so many look over
And pass by
Every day
Simple fools they must be
To pass by
The face that must out-shine
Even the stars
On one of those
Lovely fingers
Resides a ring
It symbolizes eternity.
Who was the giver of this gift?
Oh, gods above,
Do not let someone else have stolen
The heart
Of this angel.
Have mercy on me
A peasant
Pining over
This woman.
You should be
The one with a crown
My darling
The one wearing jewels
And many lovely gowns
And yet
Alas
You were born a servant
Doomed
To be overlooked
Though you are more beautiful
Than the sun.
Be still my heart,
My soul
My darling, I beg of you to have me
For I can clearly see
Though your face be veiled
That you, indeed are glorious
In your beauty.
The gist of this poem is a peasant pining away over a servant girl. He can see her hand draped out of the window of the litter as it passes by, but she is wearing a veil, so he can't see her all the way. He imagines what she must look like judging by how beautiful her fingers are.
I've never done a poem like this to my memory, so let me know what you think. :)
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