My body will be one with you, my heart will be caught in the whirls of your frenzy, and the burning heat that was my life will flash up and mingle itself in your flame.
XLI
The Boatman is out crossing the wild sea at night.
The mast is aching because of its full sails filled with the violent wind.
Stung with the night’s fang the sky falls upon the sea, poisoned with black fear.
The waves dash their heads against the dark unseen, and the Boatman is out crossing the wild sea.
The Boatman is out, I know not for what tryst, startling the night with the sudden white of his sails.
I know not at what shore, at last, he lands to reach the silent courtyard where the lamp is burning and to find her who sits in the dust and waits.
What is the quest that makes his boat care not for storm nor darkness?
Is it heavy with gems and pearls?