Perhaps it deems to you a rose as choice
A bit too loud for your dear love: so take
Instead the well-embroidered herb and make
The heliotrope´s insistent whisp´ring voice
Quell bulbul, loudly praising her in places
Of desire, but innocent of her.
Behold: how dearest words at night in phrases
And tight embrace remain as one for e´er,
By fragrant vowels´ rouséd violet,
Perfuming all the silent four-post bed-:
And thus concealing well the foliage cluster
Distinct bright stars combined, in silken luster
And blend, almost to vanish in a vent,
Silence with cinn´mon and vanilla scent.
Rainer Maria Rilke |
