Taka, waiting
On the green bank his coming, told her heart:
"Not for his beauty only, tho' his eyes
Burn into mine more beautiful than the night,
Not for the corded muscle in his arm
Which broke a great branch that would stay my path,
Not for his voice, a murmur of soft seas,
Nor all the gracious ways he knows so well,
Not for his love that breaks within his eyes,--
All these are dear, are dearer than my life,
But for himself I love him," Taka dreamed.
"To be his sister, nay, his mother then,
To welcome him from hunting with my eyes,
To fight his battles with the other women,
To triumph in his triumphs, yet perchance
Be happier if when vanquished he would come
Safe in my arms for shelter. If I might
But suffer for his sake and see him stand
Stronger and happier--he should never guess--
But I might sometimes touch his hair and know
The curls that clung around my fingers mine,
Bought by my pain as he, Malua, mine.
Just so the heaven belongs to each small star
Fixed by its gracious power eternally."
Thro' the late afternoon Uhila came.
The Earth was idle, on her knees her hand
Opened, relaxed and empty, and her eyes
Closed to the ardent sun. The village slept,
Waiting for evening's cool. Uhila came;
Over his shoulder like a silver shroud
He brought the gleaming fish.
Pages:
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27