The evening sun burned a trail in furrowed clouds,
warming brackish waters with refulgent glow.
Birds alighted from their nests under twilight’s shroud
Swishing their tails as westerly winds sailed low.
Then I heard her laughter like a running fountain,
Cascading on the wind and dying with a sigh.
In that moment of rapture, a familiar strain
bubbled to my heart’s surface, and fell with a cry:
Why does love bloom and die like mimosa in spring?
Pray, am I a misfit saddled with flickering charm?
Like the evanescent sun, what heat may I bring
Till darkness of tedium wipes daydreams with its arm.
‘Hold thy breath,’ to the mocking winds I humbly plead
Lest in Hades, thy fetid air I breathe in shame.
Fair maiden of the night, weep not in cupid’s stead
Nor fly o’er my grave with heart quivering with blame.