Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXIX

I think of thee!-my thoughts do twine and budAbout thee, as wild vines, about a tree,Put out broad leaves, and soon there's nought to seeExcept the straggling green which hides the wood.Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understoodI will not have my thoughts instead of theeWho art dearer, better! Rather, instantlyRenew thy presence; as a strong tree should,Rustle thy boughs and set thy trunk all bare,And let these bands of greenery which insphere thee,Drop heavily down,-burst, shattered everywhere!Because, in this deep joy to see and hear theeAnd breathe within thy shadow a new air,I do not think of thee-I am too near thee.