The Jewel
On my flute of ebony I played to you the most impassioned songs
that I know, but your eyes followed the flight of pigeons and you would not listen.
I gave you a poem in which I praised your beauty, but you tore it
up, throwing the pieces on the waters of the lake, because, you said, there were no lotus petals.
I would have given you a wondrous jewel, limpid and cold as a
winter's night, but I keep it because it is like your heart.
that I know, but your eyes followed the flight of pigeons and you would not listen.
I gave you a poem in which I praised your beauty, but you tore it
up, throwing the pieces on the waters of the lake, because, you said, there were no lotus petals.
I would have given you a wondrous jewel, limpid and cold as a
winter's night, but I keep it because it is like your heart.
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