Whence cometh such tender rapture?
Those curls—they are not the first ones
I’ve smoothened, and I’ve already
Known lips—that were darker than yours.
The stars have risen and faded,
—Whence cometh such tender rapture?—
And eyes have risen and faded
In face of these eyes of mine
I’d never yet hearkened unto
Such songs in the depths of darkness,
—Whence cometh such tender rapture?—
My head on the bard’s own breast
Whence cometh such tender rapture?
And what’s to be done with it, artful
Young vagabond, passing minstrel
With lashes—to long to say.
(Marina Ivanova Tsvetaeva)
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Based on Topics: Faces PoemsBased on Keywords: lips-, smoothened, curls-