Page:Nalkowska - Kobiety (Women).djvu/325

Rh I have this night guessed the stars' Runic riddle: &hellip; There, on the verdant banks of Life,—alas! Some one hath rent in twain the shroud sepulchral. &hellip; Under that shroud sepulchral Sleep lies dead.

Why should I yearn impatient for the morning, Since it is writ that I expire at dawn? Oh,—for my heart distraught still loves Life madly,— I will my true love call to me to-day!

"Come to me, dear one! greet me, but in silence, Lest thou shouldst wake sad Memory's sleeping ghosts; Quietly let them down, the ice-cold curtains: Quietly draw the silken veils aside.

"Come to my tent, though dark it is around us: Fear not; the stars are twinkling soft above; (Fain would my wings of silver soar to join them!): Cover thine eyes, love, from the dread black night!

"Wilt thou two clusters—grapes with warm blood swelling? Lay twixt my breasts, O lay thy golden head! Me let thine arms, mighty with youth's keen transport, Clasp in embraces like the serpent's coil.

"Here is no skiey vault unfathomable; Here are no stars that gleam athwart the blue.— They are a silken tent, my silky tresses; Stars, too, shine bright:—naught but mine eyes are they!