A beauty reading is the only thing
Which makes my heart fall at once.
When I see a woman reading, only then,
Do I want something that might happen when
Poetry comes into my soul, wondering
What women love, and the secrets of the happiest, and most occupied, of men,
And if there is a chance to embrace
The whole of her with her book. And make inquiry of her studious face.
What is she reading? She is reading this,
And doesn’t know it, until she feels the fruit of this ambiguous bliss.
They say the one who can make you talk is the one who can make you love.
But after loving, the talking ends; the thick silence accuses
The lovers. The talk piled up everything the silence now loses.
Then I won’t talk. I will let her go on reading, and this
Is forever mine: inspired by some ideal poem, or picture, or conversation, or kiss.