Nice Comes. Poem by Driss Ezzireg

Nice comes the thought of her.
Like the breeze on a summer's night
That cools the air and the heart,
That dries sweat on a baby's breast.

Bright comes the thought of her.
Like a star in a cloudy night
That enlightens the path of lone walkers
That lightens the pace of impatient lovers.

Shy comes the thought of her.
Like the kiss of a monk on a revered shrine.
Like the bliss of a newly found mine
Of love too fecund, too profound to wane.

Sigh goes the love of her.
A loss that leaves the mind hollow,
The heart in endless sorrow
And the soul bound to err.