Night Speech
MAN’S SONG
TOUCHING in sleep, my only speech
My rib to yours, to say:
Do not go now to this night’s lover;
Remember the laurel,
How white we met.
My arm is laurel, that burns in sleep
And walks apart by day.
My rib to yours, to say:
Do not go now to this night’s lover;
Remember the laurel,
How white we met.
My arm is laurel, that burns in sleep
And walks apart by day.
WOMAN’S SONG
BRUSHING in sleep, I touched such speech
As the dead knelt to say:
“I am the throat, of your first lover.
Remember the laurel,
How white we lay?
Break then, lest two dreams crossed in sleep
Bleed laurel too, away.”
As the dead knelt to say:
“I am the throat, of your first lover.
Remember the laurel,
How white we lay?
Break then, lest two dreams crossed in sleep
Bleed laurel too, away.”