MY lover kissed my lips, and his arms went round my body,
But you were kissing the lips of my soul in our own wild garden
Where the rose-colored moon shone down
Through a sevenfold garland of rainbow stars
And a river of clear golden music rippled and thrilled
In our own place.
My lover gave me worship and faith and swift submission,
You gave me a light word, and a touch, before you went from me,
And an endless demesne where my dreams can live my whole life through
And a living heart to sing with;
There is never cause for grief or cause for laughter
That I do not run to our country of dreams to tell you,
Wrapped in your living arms among the heavenly roses,
Sure of your smile . . .
You, whose heart is a cluster of seven cold stars!
