Our buttocks are not theirs.
I have often seen people unbuttoned behind some hedge;
and, in those shameless bathings where children are gay,
I used to observe the form and performance of our arse.
Firmer, in many cases pale, it possesses striking forms
which the screen of hairs covers;
for women, it is only in the charming parting
that the long tufted silk flowers.
A touching and marvellous ingenuity such as you see only
in the faces of angels in holy
pictures imitates the cheek
where the smile makes a hollow.
Oh! for us to be naked like that,
seeking joy and repose,
facing one's companion's glorious part,
both of us free to murmur and sob?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem