Your body is like a house, my love.
My love, your body is like a house.
Each room makes a home.
And its mortar mix holds my soul
Each finger interlocks a gift, my life- my wife.
Your body is like a house, my love.
My love, your body is like a house.
The fittings move,
The walls crumble
Then, all at once, the roofs collapse.
There are moths in the fire grate
Swirling ashes of days long lost
And a nostalgic shadow that tiptoes away
That motionless wants to dance and play
And not just silently inveigh
You were still here just yesterday.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem