Text: The Black Atlantic. Fragile Meadow.

Woman,
Tranquilly laboring at all love's cultivation
I do believe
I am fortunate to have met you

Woman,
How ephemeral our grace is in these wind stricken plains
But I do believe
It is our fate to reside here
Away from the mountains of youth and safety
In a fragile meadow
(We build our home)

Woman,
I see you bloom in this sun that we have shaped
I do believe
You are my companion and lover

Through our rains and wintry phases
I have come to love you for you