A fiery glance has never yet betrayed.
Hold the man's heart in your unversed child's fingers,
draw the man's streaming fire into the icy staterooms of your eyes!
You are as certain of love as you are of the kingdom of heaven.
He will give you his heart, a kingdom and all the flowers of spring,
and you will give him the light veil of your longing that makes the distance blue.
Still your breath has not touched the fluttering light of his bliss.
Still your eye has not measured the extent of his faith.
Still your feet have not crossed into the closed circle of his destiny;
it is the same to you whether it is red or blue.
But there will come a day when you hang close
to him like a flower to its stem,
when his dusk is your light and his drought is your spring,
when you wander around the passages of a wide-flung castle and know that you love
and that he only lives on the white bread of your purity
and that his blood only streams in the basin of your motherly tenderness.
All will be heavy and miraculous and hard and indivisible.