She was still in the Brünnhilde dress with the helmet on her head and the white robes trailing. The spear lay at her feet. He trampled on it as he sprang, snatching her into his arms: "Kaya!"
His grip was like a band of steel and he wound his arms about her, pressing her to him: "Kaya, my beloved! Ah, my beloved—speak to me! Open your eyes! Look at me!" He tore the helmet from her head and flung it to the ground. The red-blonde hair fell back, and he kissed her cheek and her curls.
He was like a whirlwind wooing, and she like a lily blown by the gale. She lay in his arms. Her lips quivered as he kissed them, but she lay without motion or sign.
"Are you faint?" he cried, "Have you swooned? Kaya! It is as if the world had gone to pieces suddenly and this were chaos, and only you and I—only you and I."
He kissed her eyelids.
"Open them, Kaya, they are blue as the sky."
He kissed her throat.
"It swells like a bird's when it trills, and the sound of it is as a nightingale in the twilight."
He kissed her lips.
"Ah, they are warm; they quiver and tremble!"