oh what have you, my love?
in this town of ours
where even leaves don't move of their own volition
the wind has taken to rustling my hair
and i dearly wish it was your hand.
love really does strange things to people.
surely it is not our love nor i
that has excited the winds.
surely we're too infinitesimal, too inane for the universe to acknowledge.
our skins, they do not match (you're the ebony hue of a beautiful king and i, the plain white of a marble floor)
our nations- enemies
our religions- different
surely love like ours is false in the eyes of these winds?
surely you see what has enraged them so?
oh you merciless winds, carry me away
for my lover's roots are too strong,
for my branches are all torn and i have no leaves to speak of anyway.
my heart has always flown against you, oh winds
for once i command it to be still
carry me away-
it hurts too much
this time, i won't rebel.