Opals (Custance)/Blind Love
For works with similar titles, see Blind Love.
Blind Love
A long wet day: and now, the twilight hourFine, but not golden, delicately gray . . .We pace the garden pathTalking: and faint between the words we sayFall troubled silences of pleasant sound . . .I speak of love, and laugh!
The flowers stand drenched and bruised on either hand,Only the leaves shine softly and seem glad . . .And so the light grows less . . .We turn: I take your hand . . . your lips look sad,As though the rain had also hurt the flowerOf your mouth's loveliness . . .
Full of rain crystals, the asparagusA jewelled tangle seems of strange green hair!You stand against it, Sweet,A pagan creature passionately fair,With your great eyes and wonderful white throat,Long limbs and small light feet!
You are so beautiful, so sorrowful!Wherefore, Beloved, none knows, not even I,"To you the world is kind"We say, and smile, when you desire to die:"Love will come soon and lead you to the light."You answer, "Love is blind!"