One night, 
One night filled with murmurs and perfumes and the music of wings, 
One night
When fantastic fireflies blazed in the moist nuptial shadows, 
By my side slowly, clasped to me, pale and silent, 
As if a presentiment of infinite bitterness
Agitated the most secret depths of your heart,
Over the blossomy path through the meadow
You wandered; 
And the full moon
Scattered white light over bluish skies, boundless and deep. 
And your shadow, 
Frail and languid,
And my shadow
By the rays of the moon projected 
Over the gloomy sand, 
Joined together 
And were one,
And were one, 
And were one, 
And were one long shadow, 
And were one long shadow, 
And were one long shadow. . . . 

Along—my soul
Filled with infinite bitterness and pain of your death, 
Separated from you by time and space and the tomb, 
By the black infinity
Whither the voice cannot reach: 
Silent and alone
I wandered along the path, 
And I heard the dogs baying the moon, 
The pallid moon, 
And the chirrup of frogs. . . . 

I was cold, with the cold of your cheek and your brow and your beloved hands 
Among the white snows of your shroud: 
It was the cold of the sepulchre, the ice of death, 
The chill of nothingness. . . . 
And my shadow, 
By the rays of the moon projected, 
Went alone, 
Went alone, 
Went alone over the lonely plain. 
And your shadow quick and slender, 
Frail and languid, 
As in that warm night of vanished spring, 
As in that night filled murmurs and perfumes and the music of wings, 
Came close and walked with mine, 
Came close and walked with mine, 
Came close and walked with mine, 

Oh, the shadows knit together! 
Oh, the shadows of the body joined with shadows of the soul! 
Oh, shadows which seek one another in nights of sorrow and tears! 

From Poetry, Vol. XXVI (June 1920). This poem is in the public domain.