To an Unknown Woman

I love you, O desire of the slaughtered heart,
O anthem of true love.
I love you beyond my dreams and my inspiration,
Beyond my hope and the peace of my soul.
Your love is my heart's bliss, O my angel,
And the oil of my faint and meager lamp.
I love you — you have done no wrong — for you are my soul
And the balm of my bleeding, ulcered eyelid.

★

I called to you while evening deepened my sorrow
And drew me nearer to the restful grave,
But you did not listen to my lament,
Nor did slumber show mercy to the wounded man's grief.
I wept while the hopes around me withered,
And I pressed my sickness upon my wounds.