Somewhere I Have Never Travelled

Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which I cannot touch because they are too near.
Your slightest look easily will unclose me,
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always, petal by petal myself, as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose,
or if your wish be to close me, I and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow,  carefully everywhere descending;
nothing,  which we are to perceive in this world, equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(I do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands ..