At the hollow of her throat
Dreaming on her pallid skin
A reposed lavaliere lies
Drinking in the warmth
Of her pulse beneath the ashen membrane
If she speaks more than a whisper
The adornment will shatter
And the intricate web encapsulating it
Will tear beyond restoration
Inconversable to the outside world
It rests esoteric in enigmatic entanglements
That cradle it in seclusion
That is designed to preserve it
For it is distinguished
And incomparable
This droplet of water was bestowed by the sky
And the plethora of the clouds
It was received once again by its mother
As she raised it fastidiously
Up into the spider’s web she wore as a riviere
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem