Kantlak said: “She remembers him who turned her fire to ashes;
She waits to know the meaning of her waiting—
Why the love that wounded her can never be cast out.”
I asked idly, “Who will tell her?”—
And laughed, for the sun was up. I reached for my arrows;
I drew my strong spear from the deep earth by her feet.
Kantlak looked up to the other gray face, and said,
“No answer is given.”
Down to the cold white endless sea-shore
Slowly she went, with bent head.