On the wooden deck of the wooden Junk, silent, alone, we lie, With silver foam about the bow, and a silver moon in the sky: A glimmer of dimmer silver here, from the anklets round your feet,...
I am waiting in the desert, looking out towards the sunset, And counting every moment till we meet. I am waiting by the marshes and I tremble and I listen Till the soft sands thrill beneath your coming feet....
The listless Palm-trees catch the breeze above The pile-built huts that edge the salt Lagoon, There is no Breeze to cool the heat of love, No wind from land or sea, at night or noon. ...
Sad is the Evening: all the level sand Lies left and lonely, while the restless sea, Tired of the green caresses of the land, Withdraws into its own infinity. ...