The adorable sight
Of your corpulent pout
When the dreamy moonlight
Beams about
The vast, lush wood
Is ecstatic wine,
Redolent, delicious, pure and good,
Which the nascent evening softly sips.
Your damask, divine,
Rapturous lips
Are the dwelling place
Of my fiery heart,
When fireflies trace
And capriciously dart
Through the starry dances
Of the languorous sky,
Where lavenders weep
Their rain into the sigh
Of your sable glances,
Half-asleep.
~ John Lars Zwerenz
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good strong writing.........................