The Secret

Le Secret

A poem by Armand Silvestre

 

Would that the morn were unaware

Of the name I told to the night,

And that in the dawn breeze, silently,

It would vanish like a tear.

 

Would that the day might proclaim it,

The love I hid from the morn,

And poised above my open heart,

Like a grain of incense kindle it.

 

Would that the sunset might forget,

The secret I told to the day,

And would carry it and my love away

In the folds of its faded robe!

 

 

Image From: Tales From a Promised Land series

Done