In waves not meant to drown me 
subtlemost feeling bouyed
quick spirit held aloft.
Trusting from saintly patience
metamorphosis finds
a sublime after-life. 

How much I promised to love
before I dreamed of you;
my longing never slept!
How Primavera makes bright 
meadows by her wish-
so each promise I kept.

Round and round the garden
sheltered by the trees
I spy the idol of my age.
No time for crouching tigers 
nor hidden snakes
round and round we go, lover's pace.