Exhausted now I lay,
spent to the marrow of my bones.
I rest with you.
Then, when our robin sings
we taste of Eden's fruit
and,
once again
we spread defiant wings.
I talk of depth
while you encircle me
you drool,
and satisfy my greed,
I shall not go
until
the reaper comes for me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In my humble opinion this is among the best of sensual love poetry. I just had to read it over again - - it is suave, it is effervescent, it is masterly in it's compostion........ enough......... and a top mark ffrom Fay.