By pools where birches bend to confidants
Above green waters scummed with lily-plants.
There we might wander, you and I alone,
Through gardens filled with marble seats moss-grown,
And fountains—water-threads that winds disperse—
While in the spray the birds sit and converse.
And when the fireflies mix their circling glow
Through the dark plants, then gently might I know
Your lips, light as the wings of the dragon-flies....