Explore "Eros Athanatos" by Frederic Manning on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
As a rose bends in rain / Your face is bowed into mine arms, / Spilling its golden drops there: / And the fragrance of wet roses / Is in my nostrils, / And the long bright tendrils of your hair / Upon me.
Under my hand you tremble as a reed / When wind ruffles the water; / Such great joy floweth beneath my fingers, / And the rain passes, and the wind strews / The ripples with crimson petals / Bright as blood upon their polished silver.
But my delight of you / Fragrant and humid in mine arms, / Of a white body convulsive, shaken / With the soul's passion; lips fierce, eager, / Passes not, but as a song, as a breath passes, / To hide it in a silence, a sleep, / Among cherishing dews, being music: / Nor the mere lute, nor the singer, / But the shaped passion of a god / Embodied in us, / Beyond us, eternal, exultant.