Never, never again?
Not on nights filled with quivering stars,or during dawn's maiden brightnessor afternoons of sacrifice?
Or at the edge of a pale paththat encircles the farmlands,or upon the rim of a trembling fountain,whitened by a shimmering moon?
Or beneath the forest'sluxuriant, raveled tresseswhere, calling his name,
I was overtaken by the night?
Not in the grotto that returnsthe echo of my cry?
Oh no.
To see him again —it would not matter where —in heaven's deadwateror inside the boiling vortex,under serene moons or in bloodless fright!
To be with him…every springtime and winter,united in one anguished knotaround his bloody neck!
