First plant a soft kiss on the forehead, trailing
the temples then, crossing the eyelids softly
tracing the outline of a fine profile - waiting
for soft sensation as sensitivity is preserved
and increased
Ever so slowly to savour every delicious
moment, every sensuous feeling without
undue pressure until the throbbing of the
blood under an increased heartbeat
becomes too much to bear
The fortress falls, storming and taking the
citadel, the victory assured even before the
first step is taken, the precious spikenard
always releasing its fragrant incense - for-
ever refilling with unending love…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem