I have wandered through many countries,
Plucked fair fruit from many trees.
I've held many girls in my arms
and tasted their charms.
And many have tried to bind me
only to wake and find me
gone with the dawn's wind.
Hotly they've loved, closely they clung to me
and all tasted sweet that lay in my arms.
Yet with the sun I rose and was gone,
riding the wind to another fair dawn.
Fair were the flowers I've plucked by the wayside,
Love's star waneth
as it waxeth,
but a day
and the sun slides into the sea.
Close in my heart I hide my first love.
She thinks not of me.
It was so long ago
I find it hard to remember.
For I've held many girls in my arms,
many a sweet body I've ravaged.
I care not what colour they are
so long as they're ripe for plucking.
I ride the dawn wind, follow
where e'er it may blow.
My heart makes merry and my song is gay,
alone I stride down a broad highway.
"Don't you feel we two are one?"
she asked of her belov'd one.
He murmured, "Not as much as you,"
and neatly sliced them into two.
Let down your hair in the silk sun's beam
for I shall be gone tomorrow.
I'm off to fight in my jungle green
leaving behind sorrow.
Fair is your hair in the pale moonlight
reflected from gathering clouds.
Before we're lost in th' approaching night,
let's sweeten our shrouds.
Let slip your robe in the candlelight
for midnight has come
and I'll be gone in another night
and you'll be alone.
Oh, sleep your sleep with its peaceful dreams,
I'll not disturb thee.
I'll take a last kiss while the far dawn gleams,
leaving a memory.
The wind tugged at shapes that were sun-coloured red,
and far, far away there came from her bed
the wail of a child.
Strange how love's commonplaces
barb the jaded appetite:
green candled eyes,
beaconing the dim room
with casual urgency
reach to touch you,
firstborn defying older wraiths.
Hardcover special edition limited to 50 copies only, 28 pages, 9"×5¾". $100 each, plus shipping and handling.