SOMETHING BEYOND THE HILL
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o a western breezeA row of golden tulips is nodding.They flutter their golden wingsIn a sudden ecstasy and say:Something comes to us from beyond,Out of the sky, beyond the hillWe give it to you. * * * * * And I walk through rows of jonquilsTo a beloved door,Which you open.And you stand with the priceless gold of your tulip headNodding to me, and saying:Something comes to meOut of the mystery of Eternal Beauty--I give it to you. * * * * * There is the morning wonder of hyacinth in your eyes,And the freshness of June iris in your hands,And the rapture of gardenias in your bosom.But your voice is the voice of the robinSinging at dawn amid new leaves.It is like sun-light on blue waterWhere the south-wind is on the waterAnd the buds of the flags are green.It is like the wild bird of the sedgesWith fluttering wings on a wind-blown reedShowering lyrics over the sun-lightBetween rhythmical pausesWhen his heart has stopped,Making light and waterInto song. * * * * * Let me hear your voice,And the voice of Eternal BeautyThrough the music of your voice.Let me gather the iris of your hands.Against my face.And close my eyes with your eyes.Let me listen with youFor the Voice.
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