I passed by the place where you abode
I passed by the place where you abode
Where lofty trees and ivy-beds grow a lot
I left some flowers by the door
And I carved some verses on the wall
The sweet flowers field I plucked and banded
Will wilt and fade away unwedded
It shall not give birth to an heir
Which bears forth its reflection and glare
These lovely cups are doomed to die
While with riotous colors your door sill dye
Their beauty to captive your love serves
As my royal on their mission stand brave
Their soft silken balmy lap is a sacrifice
To entrap a higher beauty and my anguish to pacify
Copy rights 2010
poem by Isaac Ziv
Added by Poetry Lover
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