The eyes sparkled, the cheeks turned red,
He grew talkative, or suddenly fell silent,
The gaze darts, the palms sweat.
Love shapes both the wicked and the saints.

To seize, to pluck, to take one’s fill,
To leave the withered and keep mowing,
Having trampled one’s own, to aim at another’s,
To ruin oneself and him.

Or to meet one’s other half,
Taking hands, to go together,
Having recognized in oneself a person of God,
To the finish TOGETHER to race and to CARRY.