In the very early morning

long before dawn time

I lay down in the padock

and listened to the cold song of the grass

between my fingers the green blades

and the green blades pressed against my body

„Who is she leaning so heavily upon me?“

sang the grass

foolish little child

it is not yet time

one day I shall open my bosom

and you shall slip in, not weeping

then in the early morning

long before dawn time

your lover will lie in the padock

between his fingers the green blades

and the green blades pressed against his body

my song shall not sound cold to him

in my deep wave he will find the wave of your hair

in my strong sweet perfume, the perfume of your kisses

long and long he will lie there

laughing

not weeping.