And the sound of the lapping water made you afraid.
Ah, and your face shone pale, in the gleam of that quivering flame!
And your bosom was rich with the round pearls row on row;
And you looked proud and jewelled, and passionate without shame—
Like some Princess who stooped to her lover, a long while ago.
1912.
Barcelona
A squalid station, tramcars, dusty palms