The River


I drifted along the river
Until I moored my boat
By these crossed trunks.

Here the mist moves
Over fragile leaves and rushes,
Colourless waters and brown fading hills.

She has come from beneath the trees,
Moving within the mist,
A floating leaf.


O blue flower of the evening,
You have touched my face
With your leaves of silver.

Love me for I must depart.

Richard Aldington