How I have labored to the touch of your lips.
And lips of the like,
and yours no woman to the other.
Have opened like yours have to mine.
The heat is to close and hot is your face,
and your face is to hot, close to mine
Who before me and we have touched both.
From the moon down below to the sun up above.
You with your lips
and I have increased and blood has begun to flow.
Like the wine and the grape they are ripe,
and like the river of life, yours the flow.
Bathed in this dream and the heat of your lips,
could not have been made.
and if not from the center peeks your tongue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem