Smoke

You passed through my fancy,
lovelier than fancy,
sweeter than April
passing among the hills
and scattering colors.

*

You passed through my fancy,
silk enfolding you,
the bed longing for you,
the nights carrying you —
legend of all time.

*

And filling my mind
was a palace of pearls,
its upper chambers flung wide;
I build it out of my fancy
and out of the fancy of the jinn.

*

Of sandalwood and perfume
I build it, my beloved,
of wondrous marble
that never lived in fancy,
from the coral isles.

*

Censers of aloes,
beds of roses,
and jasmine my border —

*

More beguiling than beauty,
you alone are the basil.

*

And your pampered head —
carnation and Arabian jasmine;
O sweetness that never wearies
in one turn of coquetry —
and our night keeps vigil.

*

We raise it up like wedding feasts,
we strew it in heaps,
with lilies and myrtle;
and our night is many nights
flooded with tenderness.

*

And all that was
of our love in the perfume
was lost —
as if it were... smoke.