In front of the sombre mountains, a
faint, lost ribbon of rainbow,
And between us and it, the thunder;
And down below, in the green
wheat, the labourers
Stand like dark stumps, still in the green
wheat.
You are near to me, and your naked
feet in their sandals,
And through the scent of the balcony’s naked
timber
I distinguish
the scent of your hair; so now the limber
Lightning falls from
heaven.
Adown the pale-green, glacier-river
floats
A dark boat
through the gloom — and whither?
The thunder roars. But still we have each
other.
The naked
lightnings in the heaven dither
And disappear. What have we but each
other?
The boat has
gone.