it is still the night of the prodigal violins
in the lapping of the eternal sea,
returning a starry pasture from which the anemos fled
...s 'go with the water your hand
to remake the wedding bed the sea
speak with four hundred roses your mouth
it's still the night of the prodigal violins
in the mills half-delabra
you spoke with a witch in secret
in your chest you hid a grace which was
proper to the moon
the garden entered the sea
deep carnation, promontory
speak with four hundred roses your mouth