II do not even scorn your lovers—They clasped an image of you, a cloud,Not the whole life of you that's mine.
III do not even pity my mistresses—Such a poor shadow of desireTheir half-warm passion drew from me.
IIIYou are a delicate Arab mareFor whom there is but one rider;I am a sea that takes joyfullyOnly one straight ship upon my breast.
IVLook, like a dark princess whose beautyMany have sung, you wear meThe one jewel that is warmed by your breast.
VSee, as a soldier wearying of fightingTurns for peace to some golden city,So do I enter you, beloved.
VIThe scarlet that stains your lips and breast-points—Let it be my blood that dyes them,My very blood so gladly yielded.
VIILet it be your flesh and only your fleshThat fashions for me a childWhose beauty only shall be less than yours!
VIIIEverlasting as the sea round the islandsI cry at your door for love, more love,Everlasting as the roll of the seaMy blood beats always for you, for you,Everlasting as the unchangeable seaI cry the infinite for space to love you!
IXEarth of the earth, body of the earth,Flesh of our mother, life of all things,A flower, a bird, a rock, a tree,Thus I love you, sister and lover;Would that we had one mother indeedThat we might be bound closer by shame.