Translated by A. Z. Foreman - Invitation to the Voyage lyrics

My sisterchild, my dear! Imagine going there Gently to live together, just us two, To love and think not why To love and live and die Together in the land that is like you. The soaking suns that rise Through those cloud-raveled skies Will move me with the selfsame mystery And witchery that lie Within each traitor eye That shines out through your tears to look at me. There, there is but beauty, measure, Luxury, repose and pleasure A furniture that bears The polishing of years Will be the decoration of our chamber, The very rarest blooms Commingling their perfumes With vague and sundry redolence of amber. Those ceilings richly wrought, And mirrors deep as thought, And walls with oriental splendor hung They all would speak apart To nothing but the heart In nothing but its tender mother tongue. There, there is but beauty, measure, Luxury, repose and pleasure See vessels in the sweep Of those can*ls, asleep, Whose way it is to wander from their berth. See how, to answer some Small wish of yours, they come Our way through all the waters of this earth. At close of day the sun Robes hayfields one by one, Then the can*ls, and soon the town outright, In hyacinth and gold; The world that we behold Subsides to slumber in a warm low light. There, there is but beauty, measure, Luxury, repose and pleasure