Brown. Brandy-brown. Leaf-brown. Russet.

Malayan yellow.

Express train Berlin-Trelleborg and the Baltic resorts.

Flesh that went naked.

Tanned unto the mouth by the sea.

Deeply ripened for Grecian joys.

How far along the summer, in sickle-submissiveness!

Penultimate day of the ninth month!

Parched with stubble and the last corn-shocks.

Unfurlings, blood, fatigue,

deranged by dahlia-nearness.

Man-brown jumps on woman-brown.

A woman is something for a night.

And if you enjoyed it, then the next one too!

O! And then the return to one’s own care.

The not-speaking! The urges!

A woman is something with a smell.

Ineffable! To die for! Mignonette.

Shepherd, sea, and South.

On every declivity a bliss.

Woman-brown drapes itself on man-brown:

Hold me! I’m falling!

My neck is so weary.

Oh, the sweet last

fevered scent from the gardens.