The Gift

What is this wine you have poured for me?

You have offered up

Your face in its pure transparency

Like a crystal cup

Which trembling fingers slowly lift —

It is faintly masked

With a tremulous smile. You have brought me a gift,

Your love, unasked.

Could you trust my reckless hands so much?

With no vow spoken,

You gave me a goblet, which at a touch

Were utterly broken!

Your smile replied: “Since the glass was filled

It little mattered

Whether the wine were drunk or spilled

Or the goblet shattered.”