Mon amant de la mer,
With what intrigues would you buy my sweetened fruit,
sliced by your knife and held wickedly in your hands;
soft flesh grown in the royal garden of my youth
its earthy tartness sending pleasure to your glands.
By what deeds do you claim the privilege of my lips
and speak of love's uncharted waters to the world,
to recount the joys and mastery of your ship
in your arms embrace an adoring peasant girl.
Loquacious
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem