Talk of the Heart — The Golden Ring

... You have given back to my youth, O you, something of the bloom of my youth and its joy; its days and its nights, before it met you, were barrenness and drought.

I pass you by in haste, and your eye greets mine, and it is as though a whole world of scowling desolation is swept from my path — and I open the gate of my heart and fling it back for you!

Is it not strange that this should happen every morning, while you are still a stranger — a stranger to my feelings? You may be wondering about my name, as I wonder about yours! Chary of my secret am I — even from you, even from myself! I clasp it warily, as one clasps what is precious and dear!

I content myself, from you, with the chaste glance, stolen in your moments of inattention; and a sweet flutter revives me, and a liveliness stirs through me... I had almost forgotten the taste of its tremor!

I content myself, from you, with the whispered greeting, and return it in kind; and the ring of your voice runs through my blood... a silent ululation!

★

... At night longing pressed hard upon me, so I turned back to my heart to silence it... to reproach it:

"Cease your beating, heart — shame on you! You have pained me, you have led me astray!! And if some new love is growing between your ribs, then slay it now... before it grows stronger than you..."

"Better for you to cut your strings and strangle it, than to go on with your despairing tune. Do you not see — woe to you — ... the golden ring... on his finger...!!???"