Dust-clad am I, my love—
How can I embrace you so?
These specks of earth upon me
Might smudge your sacred glow.
What if their earthen scent
Dulls your divine perfume?
What if, wrapped in their roughness,
Your silken tresses lose their bloom?
What if your tender, fair skin
Turns dry and dusky in their touch?
No—no, I cannot let
You be marred by me so much.
You are grace, a golden flame,
And I—a dweller of the wild;
You are a dream, so soft, so pure,
And I, the forest’s untamed child.
It is I who must transform,
Yes, my love, to reach your light,
I must cleanse my dusted soul
And rise from shadow to your height.
Stay just as you are—unchanged,
You are the shape of my desire;
And I—
I cannot cast aside the fire.
Fate has led me to your path,
A path I dare not bend nor break;
To walk beside you, I must change—
For your love, my soul shall wake.
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