Down where the lonely poplars grow
How often have I erred;
My steps that all the neighbours know
You only have not heard.
Towards your window lighted through
How oft my gaze has flown;
A world entire my secret knew
You only have not...
Then we met more often.
I stood at one side of the hour,
you at the other,
like two handles of an amphora.
Only the words flew between us,
back and forth.
You could almost see their swirling,
and suddenly,
I would lower a knee,...
Little by little she became a word,
bundles of soul on the wind,
a dolphin in the clutches of my eyebrows,
a stone provoking rings in water,
a star inside my knww,
a sky inside my shoulder,
and I inside I.
