Vachel Lindsay (Вэчел Линдсей)

Caught in a Net

Upon her breast her hands and hair 
Were tangled all together. 
The moon of June forbade me not — 
The golden night time weather 
In balmy sighs commanded me 
To kiss them like a feather. 

Her looming hair, her burning hands, 
Were tangled black and white. 
My face I buried there. I pray — 
So far from her to-night — 
For grace, to dream I kiss her soul 
Amid the black and white.

1. What the Miner in the Desert Said
2. At Mass
3. A Prayer to All the Dead among Mine Own People
4. With a Bouquet of Twelve Roses
5. The Illinois Village

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