As the fumes of myrrh that mix with the odour of sandalwood

In a temple sacred to the goddess Lakme;

As moonlight mingled with starlight

In the lucent azure of an autumn lake;

As the sunset-rays of gold and crimson

That interlace on a couch of purple cloud—

Even so, Beloved,

Hath my love mingled with thine—

Even so, our souls are one,

Like two winds that meet in a valley of rose and lotus,

And fall to rest, uniting

As the still and fragrant air that lingers

On a bed of falling petals.