Images

I like a gondola of green scented fruits Drifting along the dank canals at Venice, You, O exquisite one, Have entered my desolate city. II The blue smoke leaps Like swirling clouds of birds vanishing. So my love leaps forth towards you, Vanishes and is renewed. III A rose-yellow moon in a pale sky When the sunset is faint vermilion In the mist among the tree-boughs, Art thou to me. IV As a young beech-tree on the edge of a forest Stands still in the evening, Yet shudders through all its leaves in the light air And seems to fear the stars— So are you still and so tremble. V The red deer are high on the mountain, They are beyond the last pine trees. And my desires have run with them. VI The flower which the wind has shaken Is soon filled again with rain; So does my mind fill slowly with misgiving Until you return.