Brightness of earth for the hollow of your throat
They brought to you,
And blossoms of death for you to throw away
And many things like links of chains,
To you whose wings are nakedness.

But I have given your nakedness the gift of mine,
And whosoever brings, from this day forth,
Obeisances
To the hollow of your bosom,
Shall find between those hills of sun,
Beloved,
My shadow. . . .