Classic Poem

I dreamed of a cruel lad
torturing a little bird he had,
to feel its flanks palpitate.

I dreamed of a world like a mother's breast
with shades of siesta and slow wings fluttering rest,
and alleys of white dreams.

I dreamed as of a sister, chaste, serene,
with the only lips of sweetness that have been,
sister and wife she seems.