Golden doves Rest on your cheeks.
But your heart is a whirling wind And your blood like my blood rustles
Sweetly By the raspberry bushes.
My thoughts run rings around you, Just ask the night –
No-one can play As I do with your hands,
Build castles as I do With golden fingers,
Fortresses with high towers: Then we play at robbers on the beach.
Splendour fills my being When you arrive.
And when you press me close to you I can see your heart starring.
Your entrails Are scintillating lizards.
You are of a gold, a gold so deep That all lips hold their breath.

Else Lasker-Schüler