In echoing green,
In your shrine,
My love silences light,
The nights fade into naught,
For love’s feast is well wrought.
You and me,
The two bodies be,
One within, and the other without,
Love germinates, and love sprouts.
Mine me is set on your yoke,
Mine bull draws the cart,
And your she, cultivates me,
And flowers turn to fruit in my heart.
The land and the farmer,
The smith and the hammer,
Voyage the Time’s sea,
Ah! Where are you, where am me!
Disembodied love! yes perhaps,
Time fridged silence, and noisy gaps!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem