Those words...so sweet
don't keep quiet...
and disperse with the blowing winds
like innocuous rose perfumes
they mercilessly
...cut through the meat...
puncture the heart
and choke the throat...
and produce a feverish conceit....
Next time
when we meet
it'll be difficult
to cool the heat...
If I take you into my arms and lock...
if I suck your burning lips with greed
and caress your throbbing pleats
with shameless strokes...
don't look at me with like that...
with shock
don't call me a mean, lecherous crook
It's not my fault...
This man's... no rock...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem