Bound under a cliff of worry alongside a
Coast that bled truth,
Like two turtledoves in a blue rookery:
We made love and supplanted our flesh, and pressed our
Sweet curses like love letters to lips.
And it was all because I knew sorcery, and crawled
Up on her roof and sang to her while
She and her children slept:
And I wept, and fell down through the surf for her,
Like a hero diminishing,
Forgetting his table manners and words, until the sky fell away
And fainted,
And she knew no more, but came for me hunting through my
Open door,
And we made love while the waves crashed and the workmen
Repeated their evermore,
And the hapless housewives leapt with one another in and out
Of each curios door;
But we made love, and the sky did not complain;
And when she left I prayed my thanks to the Virgin Mary:
I god blessed her rain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem