5936 I conjure you, when you come

I conjure you, when you come

With your oblique smile to gaze

Into the mirror of my eyes,

That your lips turn into butterflies

And alight upon every flower

In the meadow of my back.

Let the target of my mouth

Be the sole aim of the darts of your soul.

And when sadness appears

Like a giant dog

With its iron jaws,

May you turn into a colossal beaver

That resolutely devastates

The taiga of apathy

That traps me within.

Be my blanket

In the afternoons of my winter,

And like the shadow of a rock

In the heat of summer.

Be the wind of madness

Whipping my face.

I conjure you, when you come

With your oblique smile to gaze

Into the mirror of my eyes,

That your lips turn into butterflies

And alight upon every flower

In the meadow of my back.