As the see-weeds are your limbs, say,
As the boughs of willows of Malmaison...
So you were lying in the foam splash,
Stopping with your mind vacant
On the light-golden melons -
The aquamarine and chrysoprase
Of the blue-green, grey-bluish,
Always half-closed eyes.
The arrows of sun were flying forward,
And waves - were the lions crazy.
So you were lying, too white though,
Out from the unbearable azure...
Behind the back was empty desert,
And somwhere the Jankoi's station...
And silently there shined the melons
As gold under your long hand stretched.
So, precious and calm in manner
You are lying, giving no look,
But when you dart it - then the battle
Will rise up, mountains will move
Into the seas, and new moons shine up,
And lions in the joy will lie -
According to direction of your young such,
Magnificent your head this time.
1 august 1913