I lie in your arms;
The night is cool,
And under the stars
Your face is calm.
Yet why do you seem
Stranger to me than any stranger?

Is it to you that I have given
My body as a shrine?
Is it upon this breast
That I have lain and moaned for love
Thro' the long numberless nights
Of my Youth?

I lie in your arms,
And under the stars
Your face is calm.
Even so
Shall it always be.
(For we shall always be strangers to each other.)