It is not enough that I am given to my love once and for ever, but out of
that I must fashion new gifts every day; and shall I not seem a fresh
offering, dressed in a new robe?
My heart, like the evening sky, has its endless passion for colour, and
therefore I change my veils, which have now the green of the cool young
grass and now that of the winter rice.
To-day my robe is tinted with the rain-rimmed blue of the sky. It brings to
my limbs the colour of the boundless, the colour of the oversea hills; and
it carries in its folds the delight of summer clouds flying in the wind.
16
I thought I would write love's words in their own colour; but that lies
deep in the heart, and tears are pale.
Would you know them, friend, if the words were colourless?
I thought I would sing love's words to their own tune, but that sounds only
in my heart, and my eyes are silent.
Would you know them, friend, if there were no tune?
17
In the night the song came to me; but you were not there.
It found the words for which I had been seeking all day.
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