The flowery beds flame up their cleavage,
in the golden rays of the setting sun.
I try to gulp and slake a longing thirst
to love and to fall into our lusty bed.
I fell as a lyre on her lying flat lap.
She closed her eyes as if in a dream.
I entered slowly into her palace of love
in exhilaration and mirthful joy.
(Graphic: The Voluptuous Witch
Picture Credit painterdancer.blogspot.com)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem