Your hair is gold sown with the loom of the sun and the wind My heart is whinnying like a horse's cry Your hair is gold and it needs a golden clasp But the gold is buried in the country And if there is a country, the gold will be easy I have flowers and words of love like wine that's been kept in clay pots for you I have honeycomb and honey from the roses and from the bees of poetry for you I will unfasten your hair and let it flow Like wheat in the sun's mortar A smile from your lovely face is a star in the prisoner's sky