AFTERWARD
NOW I remember very plain: A sumac leaf was red, The bloom of grape was on the hills, The river was a twisted thread.
That day I marked not leaf nor hill, Nor rivers to the sea— I was my lover’s garden closed, I was his tower of ivory.
NOW I remember very plain: A sumac leaf was red, The bloom of grape was on the hills, The river was a twisted thread.
That day I marked not leaf nor hill, Nor rivers to the sea— I was my lover’s garden closed, I was his tower of ivory.