The Only Dawn

Enfolded by the white paradise of your loving arms, I tend to rely to you my dolorous soul’s deepest sensations, Bemusedly seeking my own vanishing reflection, In two blue mirrors of fathomless happiness, Yet underneath my tenebrous shroud the sun arises not, Without you I drown in a lake of misery and tormenting thoughts, But when you are near my anguished soul rests in sweet tranquillity, From wandering the marshes of deep melancholy like a forlorn spectre, No vine bore so sweet a grape to match your deep enticing kisses, Neither did a star from Heaven spring to outshine your angelic soul, And no wormwood ever shall taste as bitter as solitude and absence, As a solemn star shines brightly over a tempestuous sea or the doleful rain, Or the sweet blossoms of spring that grow within the ruins, A candle you are, that illuminates my nightly discomfort, And though my being may dwell in shades, you are the only dawn.