Spanish Guitar

Stolen Beauty

I do not know from where you have stolen your beauty,
although I can wager that much of the heavens has lost something.
The earth sees your hair move in its winds and sighs,
for it is jealous that it cannot touch it when it pleases.
The water of the earth sees your everso damp lips and shining eyes
and wonders why it cannot always gleam so temptingly.
The air can feel your breath mix with its moving currents
and hear your hushed tones, only guessing at times
the many ways they are able to make men's hearts dance.
All the stars in the universe watch you in the light and in the dark,
curious as to how such a collection of earthbound qualities
has raised you to heights beyond their limits as they watch,
fixed in place and fixed on you. You, who are unaware as you dance
about their endless playground with the careless joy of a nymph.
Poor downtrodden boy I am, nothing of mine sparkles like you
and where I was once lucky to skip happily by your side in your hand,
I sit and gaze you from afar, wondering along with all of existence.
I manage a wry smile as I see the stars twinkle for you
and beckon you away, begging for you to play in their fields.
But perhaps I was the only thief in this story--
to have spent time with you seems beyond the grace of luck
and I do not know how I even got you in the first place.