III.
Other Men
 

When I talk with other men
   I always think of you --
Your words are keener than their words,
   And they are gentler, too.

When I look at other men,
   I wish your face were there,
With its gray eyes and dark skin
   And tossed black hair.

When I think of other men,
   Dreaming alone by day,
The thought of you like a strong wind
   Blows the dreams away.