The satin sheets allowed us to use for sails
the billowy white pillow cases
where on your hair splayed
as if blown there by the wind;
I took my long breath amazed
at the sight
while being the oarsman stroking my oar
sailing your body sleek
and you my propeller moving me
we both breathing
both contributing to the gathering water spout;
where thrashing waves explode beneath;
where crests and troughs
meet
where finally all oxygen is inhaled.
Tremendous expirations
blow-an indoor summer breeze-
until there is beneath us
only the glassy, calm sea
on our satin sheets
pleated and unpleated
marking our love-making there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Boldly romantic. Love-making is a multi-pronged art, and if treated and practised as such, will be wholesome in its effect. Beautifully expressed.