If my dreams were clouds
If my tears were summer rain
My laughter like the west wind
That sways the flora merrily
If my smile the rising of the moon
My winking eyes, the twinkling stars
My face, the sun at dawn
My hopes remain unfulfilled
Thus I never cease to hope
My eyes on the distant horizon
My faculties on the arches of the future.
A soft, placid, unmacho life
Soft winds, gentle streams
Laughing mutely in their wake.
I love to love, love to be loved
A soft undemanding love
That forgives forgets
All my trespasses
Acts untoward.