poems about love

Curr dhoo, curr dhoo,
Love me, and I'll love you.

In the strength of the endeavor,
In the temper of the giver,
In the loving of the lover,
Lies the hidden recompense.

In the sowing of the sower,
In the fleeting of the flower,
In the fading of each hour,
Lurks eternal recompense.

Bring me no more flowers. Bring me cypress branches in which to plunge my face.

When the sun has disappeared behind the mountains I put on my robe of blue with the thin sleeves and go and sleep among the bamboos which she loved.

I cannot believe that I am of wind,
For earth and wind can match a god.
I cannot believe in writing so …
What would you do
If I must mind
The world of blossom's
Lay and peace?—
The rest of love
And charm's uncease?
I cannot believe the find.

My love
Knows no destination
And has no goal;
I think only
Of meeting as its limit.

My days are different froMyour days, my life
Is hedged about as with a hedge of flowers,
Flowers bright as roses and with thorns as keen.
So is my girlhood guarded from the strife
The turmoil of the world's contending powers.

Since shapes in shadow are but dimly seen
By those who in the summer sunlight stand,
I can but guess those sordid things and sad
That mar the great sweet world, and come between
All simple human hearts in every land.

They came between your heart, and mine made glad

Was this His coming! I had hoped to see
A scene of wondrous glory, as was told
Of some great God who in a rain of gold
Broke open bars and fell on Danae:
Or a dread vision as when Semele
Sickening for love and unappeased desire
Prayed to see God's clear body, and the fire
Caught her brown limbs and slew her utterly:
With such glad dreams I sought this holy place,
And now with wondering eyes and heart I stand
Before this supreme mystery of Love:
Some kneeling girl with passionless pale face,

Sweet are thy charming smiles, my lovely maid,
Sweet as the flowers in bloom of spring arrayed;
Those charming smiles thy beauteous face adorn,
As May's white blossoms gaily deck the thorn.
Then why, when mild good-nature basking lies
'Midst the soft radiance of thy melting eyes;
When my fond tongue would strive thy heart to move,
And tune its tones to every note of love;
Why do those smiles their native soil disown,
And (changed their movements) kill me in a frown?

Yet is it true, or is it dark despair

The fishing-boats are tossed about,
When stormy winds blow strong;
With rudder lost, how can they reach
The port for which they long?
So runs the old love-song.

What pearls, what rubies can
Seem so lovely fair to man,
As her lips whom he doth love,
When in sweet discourse they move,
Or her lovelier teeth, the while
She doth bless him with a smile?
Stars indeed fair creatures bee:
Yet amongst us where is hee
Joys not more the whilst he lies
Sunning in his mistress' eyes,
Than in all the glimmering light
Of a starrie winter's night?
Note the beautie of an eye—
And if aught you praise it bye
Leave such passion in your mind,
Let my reason's eye be blind.