O, bleeding blossoms, tell, were my heart there—
There in your bed,
Would that sweet thief that stole you unaware
Have stolen it instead?
Come with me, scarlet salvias, to your home;
We are not late;
Love in the moonlight there again will roam—
There let us wait.
I still remember when one night she crowned
Me with the stars
Plucked from your scarlet sky—she would astound
The kings of Mars.
She then would slay me—wash the face of night
With my bold blood—
Ay, she would show that yours is not as bright
And not as good.
O, scarlet salvias, why should I refuse
When I’m with you?
Why should I chill my lady, if she choose
To steal me too?
Public-domain source text
Stolen Salvias
by Ameen Rihani
Source record
This is a source transcription from Standard Ebooks, published in Past Poetry’s public-domain archive without line-by-line editorial notes. Public-domain source edition. Availability can vary by territory.
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