SAMPAGUITA

Because you are white, white,
of the color of prayers
and sleep on the shrub
dreaming velvet dreams
and await with the chaste
patience of mystery ...

Because you are bestarred,
adorning the shady
gardens of my country
with a lofty mark,
—flowery route—...

Because you are like a kiss
on the face of the beloved,
and on the bosom an anguish
of the swain who awaits
the divine quiver
of her mute throat ...

Because you are in the wind
the winged carrier
of serene perfumes,
pulsators of the soul,
and with the silken contact
of your clear caress
desires are whitened
and damsels weep...

Because snow — white sparke is
your bud on the branch
and of graces imprinted,
enchained, embelish
the swarthy bosom
of the Tagala vigin...

Because you tell a thounsand tales
to the enchanted mind
and sow charms
along human trails
of the tropic in siestas
of extatic fiery calm...

Because beneath the roofs
of the nipa of their homes
ingenuous you put seals
on evil passions...

Because everything is memory
in your aroma and your flame,
brightening the paths
with light of caravan...

Because you are all that;
penumbra and flame
nosthalgia, tears, flight,
«today», «yesterday», «tomorrow» ...
because you are a fantasy
of my golden childhood,
I carry you in my innermost,
deep within my soul.