Opal Ring
Your dream is a charmed slave
of my soul that calls you;
you will come to the end of the world's desert,
from here, barrier abysses, peaks.
Crystal clear, like the blue heights,
found you sleeping, thirsty dreams, -
in the dream of your sixteen years
your soul desired and abducted you.
On abysses, peaks, unknown spaces
your dream flies-flies in a cheerful sleep -
and I hear, in the night of dark woes,
the saving pre-dawn bell.
You will come, dawn-innocence all-victorious,
in the robe of your fragrant shyness
and it will be an hour of confession-last,
a radiance in a magical reverie.
My soul will sprinkle pearls over you,
that you will be a rose, I will be may.
And we will burn in our sleep - and like smoke in the sky we will find an end.