See the stars, love,  
In the water much clearer and brighter  
Than those above us, and whiter,  
Like nenuphars.  
  
Star-shadows shine, love, 
How many stars in your bowl?  
How many shadows in your soul,  
Only mine, love, mine?  
  
When I move the oars, love,  
See how the stars are tossed, 
Distorted, the brightest lost.  
—So that bright one of yours, love.  
  
The poor waters spill  
The stars, waters broken, forsaken.  
—The heavens are not shaken, you say, love, 
Its stars stand still.  
  
There, did you see  
That spark fly up at us; even  
Stars are not safe in heaven.  
—What of yours, then, love, yours?
  
What then, love, if soon  
Your light be tossed over a wave?  
Will you count the darkness a grave,  
And swoon, love, swoon?

This poem is in the public domain.