I refuse to cling to anybody
who doesn’t make the sun come out of my eyes
who doesn’t come to me like moonlight to the forest on dead winter’s night
who doesn’t take me in like shore lapping up the sea
and let it out like a home-come sailor meets the earth with his knees;
No,
this fragrant, raging, mountainous love of mine
will be returned in kind
will be returned in kind.