Into my eyes the short dark shard
Of every shiny shaft thrusts through:
Keratin's creeping harvest hard
Renders bright the yeoman true.
Duty calls, educes vigour,
Courage and the sinews' rigour:
Small but tough and energetic;
Sexy, strong and so athletic.
Every second more the fountain
Surges tightly through his chest:
Vital as the lean beef mountain
Powers crimson fissure's quest.
Decade whole as slow vibration
Brings forth heightened delectation
Low, smooth, deep and lustful, loudly,
Mighty hormones ringing proudly.
Where rest the bones of Kipling's lad?
Does lucky loam imbibe his blood,
Or is the sterile screen as glad
To show his guts and thews in mud?
Free with flight from Magic's bond,
Dan's abandoned Harry's wand;
Lief to West and Eagle hies
There to search the Earth or skies
Jacob, grip and guard the swain;
Rage and shun the ladder, looming,
Forever stalwart and again:
Keep bright beauty's flower blooming!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem