White goddess of beauty,
Though the stars rose against you
And the steeds of the day
Were arrayed against you,
Though the might of the sea
And the menace of night
Were against you,
We would be with you
And worship you.
Ah, goddess! Lovely, implacable,
What wine shall we bring,
What cup for your lips?
Blood, blood of our hearts for a drink,
Our lives for a cup.
White grape and red grape and pale
Dim scarlet of wearied mouths,
Flowers and the music of trees,
Hills golden with sun
And the sea, still and blue and divine—
These are yours
But not ours.
We are scorned for your sake,
We are broken,
Ah, Goddess! You turn from our pain!
And once we begged of you death,
Death, quiet and smiling,
Death cold as the wind of the sea.
Now, love has lighted our hearts,
Now, though we are beaten and crushed,
Grant us life.
[58]
