O nymphet, your desire-wet pellucid eyes
may awake the dormant volcano;
the drowsy crater in opium stupor
may stretch up in an yawning mouth;
with a vigorous tremor may erupt gallons of lava.
Masculine nostrils sniff the nymphomaniac whiff;
the titan rock may totter and collapse.
Maybe, mind is made to embrace the catatonic spell
languish in the fold in the catastrophic shell!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good writing, thanks, I like it.