Mine Ealoved Leaf

In the forwornen wind I blow I wot not what I’ve done to thee, yet still thou carest for me so, though I thee break in many a tree. I pluck thee down, yet thou ne reck’st. When I essay to care for thee, men misconceive my meaning’s plea, and now I look — thou grown’st full tall, thy leaf of summer green I see, while winter’s breath doth fade it all. How hard I strive, yet cannot ken why needest thou to fade, my friend? How shall the Earthly Mother rise anew, sans beauty such as thine, when gentle winds their course do wend, and thus mine heart doth fade with thine? If thou hast ta’en my beauty’s glow, then to thee mine paleness goes. As weaker grows this mortal frame, yet thine fair hue unchanging shows. In thee I mind when I was fair, in thee I mind when I was young.