Bright gold of the ripe day oozes over
The succumbing petals of the bedside flowers;
Your gold fish breathes, wide-eyeing us from its clear bowl.
All noon we lay naked on the bed
Not once looking at the bodies
That had by now returned to their own skins.
The afternoon held time in a limbo
And we slept and woke,
Breathing the slow heat,
Breaking in golden sweat,
Until the ring in your sleepy hand
tugged at my hair and broke the spell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem