Quiet Sunday in the sun, quiet
reading, listening to music, content
in being, happy to be breathing, a
strange state of affairs, I usually
feel I should be DOING something
while you teach me that the mere
fact of being is joy in itself, to be
aware, feeling sensations, is more
than enough reason for living; I still
find it difficult, until you kiss me
and hold me down, make me listen
to the sounds of nature, the beautiful
birdsong, feel the sun – but I love
listening to your heartbeat, I enjoy
feeling your lips whispering against
mine – THEN I enjoy nature also,
as background to YOU…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem