My lady of the night, of the mirth of the autumn twilight; where there on her bosom lies, ebbs pure love she has for me.
My lady with skin like a Diana, mouth small yet full redden with desire, I opt to kiss.The rhythm of her waist quickens and promises to give way under the flourish of my fingers.
My lady with heart fragile but steady-full of gracious emotions she bestows to seek adoration for me, has led to the sealed fate of matridom.
My lady fair and crimson, patient and hopeful at the crystal flowing fountain.A matter she cries oh stay! that my heart skips the third time.
Lover of my, like the poet in love, will come as a maiden...down the street.What a darling my lady is.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a beautifully written poem done in that romantic old fashioned style! Love it!