My sadness falls in sweetened drops
for thought of you provokes them;
If not these tears, I had not known,
what form of love evokes them;
My heart is stilled, its fires gone –
it waits your Hand to stoke them…
Now listen close and hear my pains:
I’d no such joy, till you awoke them.
for thought of you provokes them;
If not these tears, I had not known,
what form of love evokes them;
My heart is stilled, its fires gone –
it waits your Hand to stoke them…
Now listen close and hear my pains:
I’d no such joy, till you awoke them.