Singalese Love Songs

I

Your eyes are beautiful beggars,
Careless singing minstrels,
Who will not starve
Nor sleep cold under the sky
If they receive no largess
Of mine.

Once lived a woman
Of great charity—

At last
Her own children
Begged for bread.

II

I would make you love me
That you might possess
Desire—

For to your heart
Beauty is a burned-out torch,
And Faith, a blind pigeon,
Friendship, a curious Persian myth,
And Love, blank emptiness,
Bearing no significance
Nor any reality.

Only Weariness is yours:
I would make you love me
That you might possess
Desire.

III