The wedding-feast is over,
The lawn is dark again,
Shadows boil and become royal,
Like witnesses of the puzzle.
It is my raging need to tell
You how time can pass
All the storytelling time.
Weddings aside, the beauty of life
Is the beautiful big living, not licking.
I speak for the kindness of the fur
Forever wet with dryness and fire.
It is a marriage made in the sky,
Ostensibly, but for the seconds attached
To joy a miracle unfolds called Life,
And climactic living speeds,
Beauteous dizziness forensically
There.
One day the date of merriment is near.
Then the weddings are all over and out,
Due to an uncertain hour,
In which we know, and we last tonight
Like rain lasting in the breeze.
It is the beating of giant wings,
This is the sound of the story.
Alive and kicking my lover exceeds me
In the foetal position.
I like the tongue of emphasis,
Clashing with the body of bright health.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem