("Lest I should know you...")

Poems

With both hands snap the fetters you made with your own

heart chords;

Take to your breast with a smile what is easy and simple

and near.

Today is the festival of phantoms that know not when

they die.

Let your laughter flush in meaningless mirth like twinkles

of light on the ripples;

Let your life lightly dance on the verge of Time like a dew

on the tip of a leaf.

Strike in the chords of your harp the fitful murmurs of

moments.

VII

Lest I should know you too easily, you play with me.

You blind me with flashes of laughter to hide your tears.

I know, I know your art;

You never say-the word you would.

Lest I should prize you not, you elude me in a thousand

ways.

Lest I should mix you with the crowd, you stand aside.

I know, I know your art;

You: never walk the path you would.

Your claim is more than others; that is why you are silent.

With a playful carelessness you avoid my gifts.

I know, I know your art;

You never accept what you would.