What if I gave to you
the silver sun that rises inside of me
and every day closed the eyes of my heart
like a meditation that flies across
the bursting galaxies of time
and when I reached that place
where lovers are no longer afraid to grab
the molten lava of endlessness
toss it back and forth among each other
and finally eye-to-eye, lips-to-lips, thigh-to-thigh
make love in the steam of earth?
And what if I sang a song to you,
a song of the soil and the simple dew of dawn,
that meant something like—
we are children no more
yet neither are we old?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem