Sublime goddess, you brown night Perfumed — musk and Havanah What obeah or Faust of the Caribbean Wrought you — Witch-daughter of the night With ebony thighs

I prefer you to opium, African wine, slumber Your nectar mouth, wherein love parades itself — the red elixir Toward you, my desires set out In caravans.

Your eyes: the twin wells That slake this ennui.

From those two black eyes — by which your soul vents Pitiless demon, pour out less flame upon me. I am no Styx, to clasp you nine times; Nor can I become a transfigured Proserpine

To break your vigor, your lust Within the dark inferno Of your bed