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The White Birds
| I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea! | | We tire of the flame of the meteor,
before it can fade and flee; | | And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky, | | Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die. | | | | | | A weariness comes from those
dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose; | | Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor
that goes, | | Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew: | | For I would we were
changed to white birds on the wandering foam: I and you! | | | | | | I am haunted by numberless islands, and
many a Danaan shore, | | Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more; | | Soon
far from the rose and the lily and fret of the flames would we be, | | Were we only white birds, my beloved,
buoyed out on the foam of the sea! |
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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