Like winds of seas, you toss the shutters,
Like winds of deserts, you sing : ‘Behold!
You’re mine for ever! I’m ancient Clutter,
Your old, good fellow, – unlock your hold!’
I dare not open, I hold the shutters,
I hold the shutters and hide my fright.
I keep and cherish, I keep with flutter
My love – my treasure, my last day light.
The sightless Chaos laughs, calls and moans:
‘You’ll die in irons – pull off this stuff!
You can be happy, you are alone,
Bliss lies in freedom – and in Non-Love.’
I grow colder and try a prayer,
I’m hardly able my love to pray…
My hands get weaker, I’ve lost warfare,
My hands get weaker… I will obey!