Over two pans of a scale
We sit calm as thought,
My weight levels yours
in concern and love,
No kiss between beams,
to each only shove,
How lustful justice
that this Dike has brought!
Do not bewitch me,
for if I reach you, you fall
Though blindfold she is,
me don’t enthral!
***
Like a lonely mast
attached to my hands,
Sullen and slow on keel
as you on sea blue,
With masculine crave
bound to feminine demands,
I can’t think of better health
for our love but through
You not singing to me
since with your sound, I fall
Though bound I am, so loose
I seem in your thrall.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem