Eyes gouged by nature’s vulgar numbers game,
Silence echoes within this barren tomb;
The sun casts only shadows on my face -
How, God, did I affront you from the womb?
To thrust injurious defects such as these
Upon this captive servant beggars sense.
You soured my sensual pleasures as you pleased
But left a chance of love as recompense:
From nowhere she came waltzing to my life
Arriving like the spring’s first celandines,
Aromas hard to place, swift to excite,
Refreshing stale existence with the craze
Of passion that I felt so strong it ached,
All the more because I’d never see your face.
