Say a word, say something
O my dark beloved!
Stir spring into my life!
O my dark beloved!
If you stir spring into my life,
I will become a doe.
In the dense garden of your
beauty
I will forage for fragrance.
If you shoot arrows of
separation at me
I, infatuated, will swoon!
I will not drink, though you
pour upon me
Delicate, sweet words.
If you stir spring into my life,
I will become moonlight.
At midnight, in a sandalwood
forest
I will come to you.
Heavy with perfume
I will lay a bed for you.
While you sleep, I will kiss you,
And fall back, unbalanced.
If you stir spring into my life,
I will become a cloud.
Whatever road you walk
Upon it I will shower myself.
The wells of grief, I know, are
deeper than life itself,
I will fill them, neck high.
These wells that have no rope,
And no pail.
If you stir spring into my life,
I will become a butterfly.
The pollen of separation,
more precious than wisdom
I will distribute from door to
door.
The tree of separation is tinier
than a nail
But casts a shadow a million
miles wide,
This tree that grows peversely,
Right beside the heart.
O my dark beloved!
Stir spring into my life!
O my dark beloved!