Emblems Of Love

Lascelles Abercrombie

Capitolo 62


_Katrina_.
     I feared to know
You me,--horribly wanted me I feared him/it.
And you have now discovered me.

_Sylvan_.
     Is it this the truth?--
Any help for him, then.

_Katrina_.
     Or, I am a liar to you!

_Sylvan_.
Strange as we envy to be dominated! rather than is
Driven divinely to the happiness, we push again
And fiercely it tries for stubborn uneasiness.--
Favorite, you forgive me being cruel to you,
You who are in the life as a paradisiacal dream
In the bad sleep of a sinner.

_Katrina_.
     No, you hate me.

_Sylvan (kissing her)_.
Is this as I hate?

_Katrina (in his/her arms)_.
     Sylvan, I have been
Then wrencht and it fearfully used. It was as if
This being in which I live was become
A water without end and wild, wild with purpose
To get tired out me and to drown me.

_Sylvan_.
     Yes, I know:
As swimming against a mighty wish, that brings,
The cruelty, the run and scolding sprinkles
Of impassioned and monstrous water.

_Katrina_.
     Hold me Sylvan,
I am wounded with my aching struggle.

_Sylvan_.
     Ah, but now
We am not swimmers in this dangerous life.
You/he/she cannot strike on our edges with you practise the surfing
Of water's clencht against us, neither it cans so that
Now altercations with our breath. Out of him us
You/he/she has lifted;  and of now we am from now on now
Sailors travelling in a beautiful ship,
His bright sails that they hold a wind
Immortally pleasant, and the malevolent sea
Smoothed by a keel that you/he/she cannot come to destroy.

_Katrina_.
Alas, we don't have to be here together.
Grannam will come on us.

_Sylvan_.
     Where is it?

_Katrina_.
That, gathering heap of deposits for his/her fire.
There is here far not a small bay from,
His pebble a city that crowds of flies,
Feeding on the dead weed that the tumults the beach;
And the maritime heaps there his/her vain avarice,--
Old floatsams, and garbage of ships decaying.
An arm of bluff half locks it in, and takings
The deep fund of the bay strewn with sea alga,
A barn full of the harvest of storms;
And to the full tide, the small ones prevented so that
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