I present you this bouquet,
Of roses red, white and violet.
Philosophy has been a carnation
That has bloomed within me since my creation
I have blossomed with it,
It's gentle opening from a bud,
To a flower in bloom,
Has been a metamorphosis for my hibernating plume
Of thoughts, of sheer raw desire, and the infinite burning fire
I know the carnation grows in your eyes
I have seen it smile and its petals fall on your bosom divine
But only after kissing your lips, and breathing your fresh air
I live, eat, drink, bathe, the carnation of Philosophy
I revel in it, drunk as a drunk can get,
The only reason I need you,
Is when I want to kiss and make love,
The carnations of the world elope,
Hide in the philosophy of your slopes,
And without you the only two remaining pleasures
I am kept away from,
Kissing and making love to the carnations of heaven.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem