Languorously, the stars ascend
Over your nude, exquisite back;
The heavens of gold turn to black
As the last rays of dusk, where grasses bend
Die in the west, over the farms,
Seducing your mind, free from alarms.
Knowing nothing but the evening's ardent pleasures,
The russet, telling blush of your tender breasts
Release their redolent, pink nippled treasures
As they gently heave with silken sighs,
To pursue true love as your dark gaze rests
In the ocean of my opened eyes.
JOHN LARS ZWERENZ
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem