Do not ask me, the name of my loveI fear for you, from the fragrance of perfumecontained in a bottle, if you smashed it,drowning you, in spilled
By God, if you even croaked a letter,
Lilacs would pile up on the
Do not look for it here in my chestI have left it to run with the
You can see it in the laughter of
In the flutter of
In the ocean, in the breathing of dalesand in the song of every nightingalein the tears of winter, when winter criesin the giving of a generous
Do not ask about his lips…as elegant as the
And his eyes, a shore of
And his waist, the sway of a
Charms…which no book has
Nor described by a literate's
And his chest, his throat, enough for youI won't breath his name, my lover…
