Classic Poem

I came upon a maiden
Blowing rose-petals in the air
And catching them, as they fell,
Upon quick fingertips.
Her laugh fell faster than the petals
And fluttered on my head and hands.
I gave her sadness and she blew it up
As she had blown the rose-petals:
And it almost seemed joy as her fingers caught it.
But I was only a wanderer plaited with dust
Who gave her new petals to play with.