The poem
You, love, and I, (He whispers) you and I, And if no more than only you and I What care you or I?
Counting the beats, Counting the slow heart beats, The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats, Wakeful they lie.
Cloudless day, Night, and a cloudless day; Yet the huge storm will burst upon their heads one day From a bitter sky.
Where shall we be, (She whispers) where shall we be, When death strikes home, O where then shall we be Who were you and I?
Not there but here, (He whispers) only here, As we are, here, together, now and here, Always you and I.
Counting the beats, Counting the slow heart beats, The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats, Wakeful they lie.