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Lord and father of life,

Of death and of bitter weeping,

One or many, pitiful or cruel,

Hear me, my prayer beating

Like rain importunately, without intermission,

For life, for a little life.

Lord, you know not her or love

If you let death take me,

I will speak outright:

No God, no nation, no cause,

No life of any man, no person,

Nothing created or living,

Do I love as I love her.

I do not ask you for her—

No god can take her from me,

Take her kisses and lithe body.

I ask life, a few years

To pour out for her,

Until she tires of me

Or age loosens her sinews

And I be no more delightful to her.

Her body is honey and wheat,

The taste of her mouth delicate;

Her eyes overcome me with desire,

Her lips are a woman's.

Under her feet I spread my days

As soft silk for her walking.