I should come bearing gifts
But silver and gold I have none,
...
On Her Birthday He Wrote...
I should come bearing gifts
But silver and gold I have none,
No time nor flight to reach your side,
Touch you and pour my heart in song.
I am humbler than the Palestinian carpenter,
So I send the wind to caress your shoulder:
In his gentle touch may you find my hand.
I send the moon to bathe you in his light,
Rest well, the unblinking eye of heaven
Rests upon you by my command.
I send the stars to claim my desires,
If I had a million eyes I'd lay all on you!
Silence I bid to imitate my lonely heart,
To what shall it beat apart from your speech?
And Time, what shall I make of him?
A friend, my hand in his and yours in mine,
Though he cannot carry us to his own end
May he hold dear this paper and these words
Penned for you. My dear, I give you life eternal!
But most of all, I cast these words to the wind,
Hoping they kiss your lips and stain your tongue;
That when you speak of love, you speak only of me,
Though bound by space and heaven's forbidding will
We will be one, like spirits raised by the same gourd.