I do not disdain the wind,
for it makes her lovely tresses
dance with the seductive grace of a gypsy.
But that which I absolutely cannot stand
is the way she blushes when I kiss her hand.
I do not rue the lamplight
that reflects Heaven in her eyes,
for it cannot outshine her smile.
But I do loathe that with each new breath
I will love her more 'til my cursed death.