The Tomb of a Young Girl

We still remember! The same as of yore
    All that has happened once again must be.
    As grows a lemon-tree upon the shore--
    It was like that--your light, small breasts you bore,
    And his blood's current coursed like the wild sea.

    That god--
              who was the wanderer, the slim
    Despoiler of fair women; he--the wise,--
    But sweet and glowing as your thoughts of him
    Who cast a shadow over your young limb
    While bending like your arched brows o'er your eyes.

        Rainer Maria Rilke
        (tr. Jessie Lamont)