That's my window.
This
So gently did I
From sleep—was still floating in it.
Where has my life its
And where begins the night?
I could fancy all things around
Were nothing but I as yet;
Like a crystal's depth,
Mute, translucent, unlit.
I have space to spare inside
For the stars, too: so full of
Feels my heart; so
Would it let go of him,
For all I know I have
To love, it may be to hold.
Strange, as if never charted,
Stares my fortune untold.
Why is it I am
Beneath this infinitude,
Fragrant like a meadow,
Hither and thither moved,
Calling out, yet
Someone might hear the cry,
Destined to
Within another I.
