poems about love

Love in fantastic triumph sat,
Whilst bleeding hearts around him flowed,
For whom fresh pains he did create,
And strange tyrannic power he showed;
From thy bright eyes he took his fire,
Which round about, in sport he hurled;

But 'twas from mine, he took desire,
Enough to undo the amorous world.

From me he took his sighs and tears,
From thee his pride and cruelty;
From me his languishments and fears,
And every killing dart from thee;
Thus thou and I, the God have armed,
And set him up a deity;

The gloom that winter casts
How soon the heart forgets —
When summer brings at last —
The sun that never sets.
So love — when hope first gleams
Forgets its former pain —
Amidst those sunny beams
Which ne'er shall set again.

Now that
at last
the dogs
that once barked at you
are
used to your touch,
don't
stay
away from the house
they linger around

With what harshness
they come blowing
toward me —
the mountain winds
from deep
within
the heart
of one who asks

I try to hide it,
but still my love
burns within —
grasses of springtime
whose colors
show the more
clearly
for a layer

Ah, if only
the sight
of blossoms
at close of day
would
stay with me!
Then though asleep,
I would not part
from
my dream
of a spring night.

In evening's gloom,
I thought
I saw
the dim form
of the one I love,
there now
as a memento
in the haze
'round the dawn moon.

Think of it
as cruel —
but still
it brings back memories:
that glaring moon
that had
such a distant look
at the moment

My love was real,
yet treated as a joke—
in that long ago
childhood,
how I felt it!

Loving the spring evening alone, I step down to the garden,
a breeze, a soft moon, both comely and fair.
Were my clothes not to become soaked with dew,
I'd lie under cherry blossoms until the day breaks.