If I Was a Poet

If I was a poet
gallant, would sing
in your eyes a song so pure
as clean water in white marble.

And in a stanza of water
all the singing would be:
“I know that they don’t answer to my eyes,
who see and don’t ask when they look,
your clear ones, your eyes have
the good quiet light,
the good light of the world in bloom, that I have seen
from my mother’s arms one day.”