I read six words of prose today
That arose a strong desire
To write a poem in which they
Would say what it was: desire
For desire was their meaning;
And they said it so beautifully:
"Await what the stars may bring";
De-sidere, they said it so truthfully.
And that arose my desire.
Yet the stars brought nothing;
So, morose, I still desire,
Still I await… the presence of the stars.