English poem
In Shadow
by Hart Crane (1899–1932)
Out in the late amber afternoon, Confused among chrysanthemums, Her parasol, a pale balloon, Like a waiting moon, in shadow swims.
Her furtive lace and misty hair Over the garden dial distill The sunlight,--then withdrawing, wear Again the shadows at her will.
Gently yet suddenly, the sheen Of stars inwraps her parasol. She hears my step behind the green Twilight, stiller than shadows, fall.
“Come, it is too late,--too late To risk alone the light’s decline: Nor has the evening long to wait,”-- But her own words are night’s and mine.