Octaves

* * *

Little children growing up
Frighten me. But what’s to fear?
Apple-blossom white in spring
Frightens me. But what’s to fear?

Rockets racing into space
Frighten me. But what’s to fear?
All is in its proper place
Save my ever-present fear.

* * *

In vain you cry with jealousy.
Your charges are unjust.
The very fact you rail at me
Awakes my wanderlust.

The woman at whose name you wept
Is not a vicious flirt
And never thinks of me—except
When she, like me, is hurt.

* * *
I don’t believe in miracles.
Still—let death claim its due
And bear me off… but send me back
Within a year or two.

A visitor from faraway,
I’ll knock upon your door.
If you need comforting, I’ll stay;
If not, I’ll die once more.

* * *

Woman, wear your gayest dresses,
Put away old scarves and frocks!
«Fine attire my heart distresses
And I keep it in my box.»

Then you’ll mar your fine apparel.
Was that what you bought it for?
«No, the man I was to marry
Never came back from the war.»

* * *

Mountain stream, it’s lack of rain
Splits a rock asunder.
Why bear moisture to the plain
Where there’s an abundance?

Spurning those who love you so,
Heart of mine inconstant,
Why are you so keen to go
Where we’re both unwanted?

* * *

«Early guests are early gone!»
Runs the well-known saying.
Love came early. Night draws on.
Love is overstaying.

«Look, you’ve shared my roof, my wine!
Go now!» Love mid laughter
Says: «This roof is yours and mine
Now and ever after!»