I call you to return ~ revenir mon amour~
let us meet on my granite rocks and listen to the passion of the sea.
Follow the Rue du Port past gorse and wild heather, remembering you,
plateaus of open, sweeping toward the English Channel,
where the land ends, where you found me, past my stone walls
wrapped in clasping vines, and golden reaches with rolls of hay, and cattle
who still whisper your name. My reaching meadows draw wind off
the jagged coastline and silvery sea, fuse it with the pearly sky ~
la lumiere~ a young Monet painted here. And you fell in love with me,
Le Cap de La Hague. I felt you lose your breath in me, the way
my lighthouse watched over you like a guard, with its window
eyes, breaking each angry wave so it would not reach you. And my horse,
my bay mare, she still grazes the shore grasses and asks after you,
that she may take you deeper through mon histoire. And I,
mon amour, I call you to return to me, for the light of my skies to shine,
and to see your face of joie when you are in my embrace again.