Poems (Bibesco)/XXV

XXV

I would there were another name for love,A name that did not tell such tales of pain,Like a cracked tell that rings with broken dreamsAnd little hopes that lived and died in vain.

I would there were another name for love,That did not tell of passions' breakages,And all the murdered beauties of the springAnd all the lost illusions of the ages.

I would there were another name for love,An empty name unstained with prying eyes,And pirate lips, and prowling certainties,The plundered loot of a lost paradise.

I would there were another name for love,An untouched name, where crumpled innocence,Scorched by the hot indifference of lust,Had not been branded by impermanence.

I would there were another name for love,A timid name, aquiver and unsure,A name for which no captain ever fought,A name unknown to any troubadour.

I want a name without a history,A name that dies away before it ringsIn mocking echoes through the caves of Time,That falls asleep under my whisperings.

The name I want is nothing but a breathThat voiceless fades upon the dusky air,A name that never sought to catch delight,And never held the music of despair,

But I have found another name for love,Though 'tis the name that all the lovers knew,The oldest name that mortal ever spoke,The other name for love is simply—you!