Phanopoeia

I ROSE WHITE, YELLOW, SILVER The swirl of light follows me through the square, The smoke of incense Mounts from the four horns of my bed-posts, The water-jet of gold light bears us up through the ceilings; Lapped in the gold-coloured flame I descend through the æther. The silver ball forms in my hand, It falls and rolls to your feet. II SALTUS The swirling sphere has opened and you are caught up to the skies, You are englobed in my sapphire. Io! Io! You have perceived the blades of the flame The flutter of sharp-edged sandals. The folding and lapping brightness Has held in the air before you. You have perceived the leaves of the flame. III CONCAVA VALLIS The wire-like bands of colour involute mount from my fingers; I have wrapped the wind round your shoulders And the molten metal of your shoulders bends into the turn of the wind, AOI! The whirling tissue of light is woven and grows solid beneath us; The sea-clear sapphire of air, the sea-dark clarity, stretches both sea-cliff and ocean.