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stars silently
    enveloped
     turbulent seas,
gingerly dappling
   each current,
whence the tides
   were stilled
'til they ebbed
    'tween streams
        of serene
            spring waters,
      rushing its
          banks in
             cascades of
                tranquil
                     awed hushes
                         overflowing
                                midst
                                   surrender's
                                                   quietude

I shall surely try to become a more worthy self,
but not with myself in mind.
What will it do myself if I am temperate and kind?
Or if I have much virtue, who is that virtue for?
It is solely and completely for you whom I adore.
Love is my greatest wealth,
diminishing purely physical states of "sickness" and of "health;"
when love enlightens my mind and brings me such joyful folly,
the mere act of living or dying makes not much difference to me.
I want to fill my days with laughter; your laughter more than mine.
It must be true that love's great youness is the hope of humankind.

Words may only become scared when arranged together
to form gentle expressions from the tongue of a lover.
I would gladly give up my sight if only to be guided
by your lovely, graceful voice, which could better show me where the light is,
by far the plain superior of my ever-faulty eyes
which look upon the world with speculation leading to demise.
There is an accepting simplicity in the warmth which you display;
never avoiding anything, from joy to unbearable dismay.
All your words are sacred, for you are the one whom I admire;
it seems the dirt which lies beneath your feet becomes a flowery briar.
Perhaps it is a partial blindness which creates this holiness,
but the only one I'd call my lord is the one whose lips I softly kiss.
As for me, the only words I speak which have much merit or worth
are the ones which celebrate the union of Heaven and of Earth;
this union I have solely found within your steady tone,
a clear and resonant lullaby, a virtue belonging to you alone.

Has this world ever seen a lovelier example of perfection?
What joy exists to equal the harmony of love's finest connection?
To cherish you within my heart has been my greatest gift,
and if I am questioned of my love I surely will admit;
if you find my love abhorrent, I will gladly go away,
for it would be my most dreadful agony to trouble you another day.
But if you feel as I feel for you, or even a tenth as much,
I would be ever delighted to call you my dearest friend in love.

in this little life, there is only so much to be done.
most days repeat rather than simply follow each other,
an unforgivable shame.
clearly the world is all suffering and pain.
I am still, however, tempted to fall for lofty declarations of love's
divinity in a godless world-
saying that, yet, love exists, a marvelous anecdote to cure our sorrow,
to fill our hearts with hope divine.
while certainly there is no "hope divine" (any such sentiments are those of a fool)-
I will not deny some excitement-
some strange sort of excitement I get when we
are with each other that is impossible not to entertain.
it often does make me wonder if, though
divinity certainly remains out of sight,
you could offer some variation or other of astonishingly secular hope.
it could be nice to feel that way about someone,
if this otherwise dreadfully dull existence must persist.
if we all must perish without much of a choice,
it may be a bit more tolerable to perish with a kiss.

If I were happier
I might say that the softly dripping drops of rain
tease my senses with sweet surprises,
or that they fill me with romantic desire
to which only you can help me aspire;
but such sentiments are all in vain,
for in my misery I only see the shame
of such a pitiful excuse for a storm
which I would have hoped to knock me roughly to the ground.
it is ugly and certainly says nothing of romance;
i wouldn't want to curse anyone with a kiss under this mess.