Amongst imagined fantasist visions
I glimpsed a form reclining on a rock
surrounded by undulating wavelets.
She was wearing a crimson scarf
and I profess she was scribbling
imitations Rimbaud or Verlaine lines
No matter, the more looking I did
the more I could taste frog legs sautéed
in Champagne and the more I saw
blue and white and red in her literary
voyages the more I felt she could fool me
with such imaginatively silky thighs.
It crossed my mind to engrave her
with a pointy stylus in a woodsy block
and make of her an Utamaro geisha
and then for the sake of painting a Haiku
I'd lay her under a blossomed cherry
Mount Fuji towering above of her.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem