Flute Songs

I

Blue is the terraced hill,

Blue the flood

Beneath it, and the gem of sky

And the hood

Of the crocus opening in the wood.

But never was there blue

Like the flame

In Love's eyes, whose lashes sweep

To tame

The naked fire that has no name.

Ir

Syrinx, and Daphne and the maid

Arethusa, with the spring have strayed

--Like green water through green shade-

Into my heart; their names to swirl

As river waters, as waters curl and whirl

Upon their isles with green and pearl.

Arethusa, slipped from the strong

Embrace . . . Syrinx, the reed's shrill tongue . . .

And Daphne who was young.

Eva Triem

Gods have loved in sadness. Stripped

Of their godhead, they have wept

Like mortals for a maid who slept.

Eva Triem