War and Love/The Lover
THE LOVER
Though I have had friendsAnd a beautiful loveThere is yet one lover I await above all.
She will not come to meIn the time of soft plum-blossomsWhen the air is gay with birds singingAnd the sky is a delicate caress;She will comeFrom the midst of vast clamourWith a mist of stars about herAnd great beckoning plumes of white smokeUpon her leaping horses.
She will bend suddenly and clasp me;She will clutch me with fierce armsAnd stab me with a kiss like a woundThat bleeds slowly.
But though she will hurt me at firstIn her strong gladnessShe will soon soothe me gentlyAnd cast upon me an unbreakable sleepSoftly for ever.