White Birds

I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the seaFar from the rose and the lily, and fret of the flames would we beAnd the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the skyHas awakened in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may never die, a sadness that may never die.A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and roseAh, dream not of that, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goesOr the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dewFor I would we were changed, my beloved, to white birds on the foam, I and you, to white birds on the foam, I and you.Bend low, that I may crown you, flower of the branch silver fish my hands have taken from the running stream, morning star, trembling in the heavens like a white fawn on the border of a wood Bend that I may crown you, that I may crown you.And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the skyHas awakened in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may never die, a sadness that may never die.I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shoreWhere Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no moreSoon far from the rose and the lily and fret of the flames would we beWere we only white birds, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea, white birds on the foam of the sea.