Upon the face of Constance two wild swans
Recovered the hazy-dim tide of winter by
Pouring embraces against the icy-cold:
Crepúscule arrived again, in its sunlit gold;
While walking on the edges of the lake
I thought of how you lit a fire upon water,
It appeared such to me and to no other.
Your eyes were like the restlessness of quiet
Woods that rustled, out of space, enchanted.
I recited verses from the Odyssey and the Iliad
In my mind; while you heard them deep.
Night had to arrive, it had to bring you sleep.
Only I remained awake like the fields of barley,
Reciting Aeschylus and his influence of
Persia's invasion of Greece over stray paper.
I acquainted with the dreams in your eyes while
You breathed in lavender waters; murmuring.
The Untersee and Obersee stretched diameter like
While I was absorbed in the continents of you.
These are no images, it must remain no mere story,
Those thoughts you have felt I have assimilated
Before the sun rose from below mountain basins,
The lake had spread the glimmering stars from
Last evening, and I have given up on them for you.

SNEHA SUBRAMANIAN KANTA is a GREAT scholarship awardee, pursuing her second postgraduate degree in literature in England. Her poem "At Dusk With the Gods" won the Alfaaz (Kalaage) prize. She is co-founder of Parentheses Journal, a collaborative venture that straddles hybrid genres across coasts and climes. Her work is forthcoming in indefinite space, Calamus Journal, Mad Swirl, and elsewhere.