XXXII

Music has opened her hands,

Through fingers her jewels are falling,

Fingers so delicate slender,

Pale as the ghost of a flower.

Jewels of crimson, the life

Ebbing from hearts that are broken,

Roses and wine and red sunsets,

Flames of undying desire.

Jewels of azure, the sea

Dreaming of stars, and the morning

Dancing with life, then the silence

Blue of mysterious caves.

Jewels of green, and the grass

Lifts up its hands to the summer,

Hiding insidious serpents,

Fair as the sweets that are sin.

Jewels more bright than the sun

Music lets fall from her fingers.

We who have stood in the shadow —

How may we die for her sake?