The other was more sensitive,
More quieting and loving-kind,
With greater will to love and live
Than I ever had hoped to find.
For with her grace of tenderness
A violence of love she had:
In a peplos of loveliness
Was hid a Mænad passion mad. . . .
To her bosom she took my dream,
Fondled it there, and gave it death. . . .
My dream a suckling child did seem,
Dead lacking light, dead lacking faith. . . .
Youth, treasure only gods may keep,
Wilted in me forever now!
I cannot, when I wish to, weep,
And often cry I know not how. . . .
Another fancied my lips were
A casket wrought to hold her love;
And wildly with the teeth of her
To gnaw my very heart she strove.
She willed all passionate excess;
She was a flame of love for me;
She made each ardorous caress
Synthesis of eternity.
Page:Darío - Eleven Poems.djvu/59
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