A touch is innocent.
But with a touch,
I can make love to you as if
You're the last woman on earth.
But to me, you are.
A kiss is pure.
But with a kiss,
I can make earth disheveled
And the world you know vanish.
Love is our own religion...
A glance is sacred.
But with a glance comes desire,
From desire is longing borne,
Longing begets passion.
Passion is the rage of the flame.
A glance, a touch,
A kiss.
From nothing this love,
This serpent arises
And nothing extinguishes the flame.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem