You came from the Aztecs <br />With a copper on your fore-arms <br />Tawnier than a sunset <br />Saying good-by to an even river. <br /> <br />And I said, you remember, <br />Those fore-arms of yours <br />Were finer than bronzes <br />And you were glad. <br /> <br />It was tears <br />And a path west <br />and a home-going <br />when I asked <br />Why there were scars of worn gold <br />Where a man’s ring was fixed once <br />On your third finger. <br />And I call you <br />To come back <br />before the days are longer.<br /><br />Carl Sandburg<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/aztec/
