Your steps, children of my silence,
Sacredly, slowly placed,
Toward the bed of my vigilance
Proceed, mute and chilled.
Pure being, divine shadow,
How gentle are your measured steps!
Gods!… all the gifts I sense
Come to me on those bare feet!
If, from your parted lips,
You prepare, to soothe,
For the dweller of my thoughts,
The nourishment of a kiss,
Do not hasten this tender act,
Sweetness of being and not being,
For I have lived by waiting for you,
And my heart was only your steps.