How graceful thou hast become,
With undying beauty,
Seemingly never to end.
I am in love with it.
A grace to arms,
A gentle face,
And no hatred would ever linger,
Upon thy wild bosom.
For you are one with me.
I am in touch with God’s throne,
And upon it, I sit,
With you at my left side.
I am in touch with a soul,
Your own, the most beautiful harmony.
I desire to know,
Everything that strays afar,
From your mind.
You are so much entwined,
With the arid wind.
You have heat that crosses,
Blankets made of silk.
You have a face that is stilled,
By the faces of admirers.
And yet, only one, has chosen you.
I am a ruler upon thy naked shores,
Where a round abdomen has formed an infant,
Upon those dunes, there are sands nearly clothed.
By the blood from childbirth,
Because I have sprinkled seed upon its color.
Do not flee, when the world comes apart,
Do not end our romance when in each’s arms.
Do not send the courier to the courthouse,
Nor the messenger to the longhouse,
As you are only to be mine when it comes.
The world falls at our knees,
Our eyes see all colors,
And have found pleasure in pain,
We rule as oneness, among plenty,
As death comes to fold its wings.
I will pick thee up from a ground, too soft,
That thou shall become a heaviness,
Made from nothingness, you are mine.
You are the simplest thing to cross,
The weariness of my mind.
With your ebony heart,
And the crudest shade of red,
That stains the ruby orb.
I have endeared, and have endured, for the moment.