You are splendid,

your arms are fire;

you have entered the hill-straits—

a sea treads upon the hill-slopes.

[11]

III

Myrtle is about your head,

you have bent and caught the spray:

each leaf is sharp

against the lift and furrow

of your bound hair.

The narcissus has copied the arch

of your slight breast:

your feet are citron-flowers,

your knees, cut from white-ash,

your thighs are rock-cistus.

Your chin lifts straight

from the hollow of your curved throat.

Your shoulders are level—

they have melted rare silver

 Prev. P 17/64 next