Love Poem by Artchil Daug

What if my heart can no longer love thee
and the yearly spring is gone from this world
leaving it barren with no life to be
as my soul cries for the devil to hold?

Watch the lakes dry up in blank coldness
near rivers with no passion left to run,
as if winter seeks its own happiness
plowing though it can never be outdone.

But my mind still thinks of many mem'ries
when this life was magic and love a spell
those flames of emotions and bewitcheries
that can root a seed no winter can quell.

In the desert of the heart giving up
all it takes is an hist'ry from a cup.