standing naked to a gathered few
but painted white
you danced
flowering, as from a mother's womb,
exact, on them,
your ritual
by standing stones
some sat,
some lounged
in wine, full bodied
your head above all others
I took your eyes as fire,
my start
and minimal movements
weave your work in fingers
and fluttering eyelids
the night forgot its smoky chill
in circles
hissing fire
for thousands of years
I've watched you dance
it's all the land,
the bountiful
your thighs have blossomed
earth to us
season after season
back then the soils seemed young
and the flames were new
we learnt your moves
your songs
all fruit to us
and subtly you dance
if there was a chant, it was soft
in your closed and move-less legs
the floor was kept together
then, in secret, oh my muse,
my muse, you let us in
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I was very pleased with this poem, it has an Earth over many ions feel about it, a developement of human existence over time in the magic of ancient flames, plus it has a seductive, feel, the dancer being mother earth herself in all her wonder and beauty.