I wind, I wind these ribbons
over my beloved’s eyes, over her soul
With brown, almost faded ink
I will write in my linen ribbons
secret signs
and I will wind them like a lullaby
around my beloved’s soul –
O never exuded balms
O narrow ribbons
wound in layer on layer of artful braid!
Don’t you already seem like the pupa of a butterfly
as it hangs on the rose bush!
You with the great eyes I gave you!
You with the immaculate face! 

Arsinoë by Gunnar Ekelof