My darling,
I have much to
Where o precious one shall I begin ?
All that is in you is princelyO you who makes of my words through their
Cocoons of
These are my songs and this is
This short book contains
Tomorrow when I return its pagesA lamp will lamentA bed will
Its letters from longing will turn
Its commas be on the verge of
Do not say: why did this
Speak of me to the winding road and the
The almond tree and the
So that the world escorts me wherever I go ?
Why did he sing these songs ?
Now there is no
That is not perfumed with my
Tomorrow people will see me in his verseA mouth the taste of wine, close-cropped
Ignore what people
You will be great only through my great
What would the world have been if we had not
If your eyes had not been, what would the world have been?
