I met you walking in an olive grove.
Strong and unhidden, you let the sun rove
on your thighs, fervor darkening your eyes…
that's all it took for me to realize:
my love for you would never cease to swell.
You would forever be my gay gazelle.
Inebriated by a vineyard's yields,
we marveled at the fragrance of our fields,
and hastened to a honey-moon cottage
where we occupied ourselves with frottage:
a jumpy, bumpy, and tender orchard
in which both of us were freed from torture.
Although we cannot legally marry,
I have given you my heart to carry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem