If desire, falling down from her mountaintop
should wrap herself around me
and bind my drenching
I could not want you more
Among us, you are the inky running words
and blistered pages
the burned and burning moments
when arid bodies bless the rain
and gasping mouths receive grace
from the highest branch
black berry, dripping sunshine
and only after quenching
does music reach within
touch the chord
only in the drowning moment
does our chanted prayer
become the dream eternal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poetic imagination, Gainor. You may like to read my poem, Love and Iust. Thanks