A Sonnet To Lucy Poem by Carlos Manrique

My diary's pages are full of thee
For when the ghastly day
debars me from thy eyes
I behold them in imaginary sight

Mercyless is the pain of not beholding your smile
For its beauty bests the dawn at a spring night
Thus, zealously treasure it in my mind
for without thou, myself, no quiet find

My diary's pages are full of thee
Thy presence, thy kisses, thy aroma, thy skin
are my light in darkness and in innocence my sin
If loving you sin is, sinner shall I be
for without thy warmth and pureness, cold is everything I feel

Lo! thus, you are the air I breathe.....
My diary's pages are full of thee