Beneath the willow wound round with ivy <br />we take cover from the worst <br />of the storm, with a greatcoat round <br />our shoulders and my hands around your waist. <br /> <br />I've got it wrong. That isn't ivy <br />entwined in the bushes round <br />the wood, but hops. You intoxicate me! <br />Let's spread the greatcoat on the ground.<br /><br />Boris Pasternak<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hops/
