Poems (Bibesco)/XXII

by Elizabeth Bibesco

XXII

The watchful stars locked up the sky,
And kept the secret of the night
Far from the pride of mortal eye,
The pride that seeks the infinite.

The silver current tugged the stream,
And would not let the waters be,
Both Heaven and Hell broke up my dream
With taunts of immortality.

The lily's bells rung out the spring,
And banished every daffodil;
A siren heard a skylark sing,
And so decided to be still.

But when you came the darkness fell
To cloak you from each prying star;
For once united, Heaven and Hell
In seeing you forgot to spar.

The current ceased to nag the stream,
The water quietly took your face,
And held it mirrored in a dream,
A drowning dream which left no trace.

And seeing you, the daffodils
Said to the lilies: "This is spring."
The lilies murmured: "She fulfils
Summer's eternal blossoming."

And hearing you, a nightingale
Averred: "The song I now shall sing
Will curse the silences that fail
To herald your awakening."

You came to me, I shut my eyes,
Begging that God might give me grace
Blindly to see the paradise
He had confided to your face.