what, white Imbros?

What are the islands to me

if you hesitate,

what is Greece if you draw back

from the terror

and cold splendour of song

and its bleak sacrifice?

[30]

[30]

AT BAIA

I should have thought

in a dream you would have brought

some lovely, perilous thing,

orchids piled in a great sheath,

as who would say (in a dream)

I send you this,

who left the blue veins

of your throat unkissed.

Why was it that your hands

(that never took mine)

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