Try pleasing with stealth
Darling, you are a petalled moon
A black water; the deluge sieved
Into total austerity.
Drunk is the night
With the amaranths
I drink you, the surge away
You claim that I am a god;
You are the elixir. Your piquant distress
And salt-skin éclair meshed
To tongues.
I am locked inside myself
In this madness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem