  DAY after day of this azure May, The blood of the spring has swelled in my veins; Night after night of broad moonlight, A mystical dream has dazzled my brains. A seething might, a fierce delight, The blood of the spring is the wine of the world; My veins run fire and thrill desire, Every leaf of my heart’s red rose uncurled. A sad, sweet calm, a tearful balm, The light of the moon is the trance of the world; My brain is fraught with yearning thought, And the rose is pale, and its leaves are furled. Oh, speed the day then, dear, dear May, And hasten the night, I charge thee, O June! When the trance divine shall burn with the wine, And the red rose unfurl all its fire to the moon. |
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