Without self-control
With complete meekness.
Light and soft is
Air over abyss.
Growing at once,
Like lightning—in time,
As if by order
There will be a blossom.
Answering stars,
With a snake hair…
Himself defenseless—
Not a flame-bearer!
He to me? I to him?
I’ll try, I know.
Without intent
Into death I will go.