Divine Love: Poem 9

Upon this journey, that my heart embarked on, 
In oblivion I buried what I did, which the occasion were 
Both of his victory and the virgin conquest.
Thither went afterwards the beaten vessel, my body, 
To nurse wounds and bring back lost faith, 
Which of healing the afflicted heart’s the beginning.
But I, now the experienced lover, love again? 
I not mythical am, I am not a goddess, 
Nor I, nor others, think me worthy of it.
Therefore, if I resign myself to love, 
I fear the coming may be ill-advised; 
Thou’rt wise, and knowest better than I speak.

And as he is, who unloved what he loved, 
And by new thoughts did his intention change, 
So that from his design he quite withdrew,
Such I plunged, down that steep cliff, 
Because, in thinking, I consumed the forbidden fruits,
Which were so very sweet in the beginning.
“If I have a vestige of any love left in me,” 
I tell myself daily, all alone in my bed, 
“My soul is all but sour and tart-jaded,
At taste which many a time a lover encumbers so, 
So it reminds the lover of what used to be, 

As bleeding love doth a heart, when love is gone.”


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