Would One Like You Weep?

This is an elegant corner for pure, refined poetry, prepared by "The Woman's Voice" for the beauty that is breathed in the letters and floods the soul with colors, perfumes, and secrets.....

A messenger came to me from Lamma, after
I had thought, my whole life long, we should never speak together again.
She says: is there not, from the covenant of old, one glimpse
in which you might see us before death and ruin?
And she said — while I bore of love for her the like of what she bore —
"Joy be to you for what we tasted after your absence."
And I went like a child who meets his mother, weeping,
while to Lamma it seemed I only feigned my tears.
Then my tears startled her, like a rose at her breast,
crushed in the embrace till it pricked with its thorn.
And she said: may a thousand Lammas be ransom for your eyes —
let the eyes of all the world weep, but never yours.
Would one like you weep? I said: if only weeping brought happiness.
Then she said: my beloved, command — may I be made your ransom.
Is it my eyes you desire, or my cheeks, or my mouth?
And I said to her: this, and that, and the other.
And I fettered her in my two arms, and she surrendered,
a captive of passion, unable to stir.