I hide myself within my flower
that wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting wear me too
and angels know the rest.
I hide myself within my flower
that fading from your vase,
you, unsuspecting feel for me
almost a loneliness…
Emily Dickinson, 1830-1886
With a lily in your hand
I leave you, o my night love!
Little widow of my single star
I find you.
Tamer of dark
butterflies!
I keep along my way.
After a thousand years are gone
you’ll see me,
o my night love!
By the blue footpath,
tamer of dark
stars,
I’ll make my way.
Until the universe
can fit inside
my heart.
Frederico Garcia Lorca, 1898-1936
(Translated by Jerome Rothenberg)
Go, lovely rose
Tell her that wastes her time and me,
That now she knows,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Tell her that’s young,
And shuns to have her graces spied,
That hadst thou sprung
In deserts where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died.
Small is the worth
Of beauty from the light retired;
Bid her come forth,
Suffer herself to be desired,
And not blush so to be admired.
Then die! That she
The common fate of all things rare
May read in thee;
How small a part of time they share,
That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
Edmund Waller, 1606-1687
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