Brute Adonis sleeps while Winter in his heart he keeps;
Yet Springtime’s nascent scent, colour to his dreams has leant.
He loves, is loved/loves not;
Object/Subject/Object three - willing lovers not to be.
The pain of separation-rent, felt keenly when its time is spent.
While black cat howls in lunar night and hopes to shed a little light -
To give him reason in his dreams to wake and take in pleasured scenes.
(June 2009)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I'm not quite sure why I like this, seeing that I don't really understand it! It certainly creates some intriguing images.