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.