If I can do for you in the séance of everything,
Then I am happy;
And my dogs leap and snap at the nude air,
And there are nude airplanes buzzing;
And you are just the first girl I’ve kissed in seven years:
I want to cut me into as many pieces and
Become your tin man of just as many poems:
Really, do this to me,
And we can leap across as many canals;
All the sad reasons that are metamorphosing into the rain clouds
Of well-fed romance;
And I should never shirk your eyes again, because there in
Is the bluest kingdom into which I have flung all of
My bluest wishes and even bluer promises in.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem