I’ve known lust since I was born
for pangs that carry on the air—
droplet notes and woman-song—
deeply sugars for the just-begun.
A line is read, a truth is sung;
I watch it bloom and then disclose
its fullest warmth, so winter’s on the wind.
I take a breath and hold the heat
to keep me whole while ice packs in my world.
I take the lonely road away, and there
am sure to find, in wamth,
traces of my voice
in its first tantrums here.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem