we walk in the shadows:
it is the time of courting;
we walk admiring the blossoms
and the unruly branches
nudge us closer
and we brush fingers
and feel the warmth
of each other’s palms
and we brush lips
is this how love begins?
in the brushing of skin
to the disappointment
of idealists and puritans;
love born in desire and impulse
that has its origins in flesh
and what is here on earth
and transformed
into ideals by inventive poets
and cunning prophets
come,
let us walk
in the autumn sun now
and stop by below the cypress
when we feel like it;
and we shall draw close to each other
and kiss deep
and we shall feel each other’s fullness
as we close the world out
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem