1. When the night folded its edges of cold
Away from the bright, pure rose

2. I called my love with the tenderness of his love
The call of one who gave generously of his affection

3. So he came, driving it on its sleek back
Pale, winding between the roses

4. A single firm stem in the perfection of its firmness
I said, let him double up, and he bent to its bridle

5. It was just a glance from afar
And another glance with the slightest effort

6. Until the eye showed us, beyond the rose
Speeding, feeling the edges of its stride

7. Then it yielded, lying on its bedding
As if, when it sped off in its vigor,

8. And stretched out to the onlooker in its retreat
It was the falling star of a fiery demon

9. As the knotted one coils in his knotting
Fifty years by the hand of its master

10. Until the eye contained it, no longer rejecting
For we are guests of the scabbard’s blade