Who could dream such as her?
A nymph whose lithe form speaks truth
Who could hope for such as her?
Shackled down in chains.
Growing clinging climbing high
Green with life that clings to stone
Hope with lips and hips and eyes
A voice in silence not my own.
I am tortured by her kindness
And cannot see the way to her
And if she turns to cruelty
I will surely burn.