And to every footfall
Of the great wars he fought
He took away
The bodies he had slain
Heaps and heaps of all of them
Like autumn leaves
The news has arrived
He, the head of the wild
Is coming through the secret paths
Of the forest
And this young lover
Shall meet him with pride
At the price of a deer
Mixed with the shadows
Of fear
In her eyes see the dawn
Of meekness
Dabbed with darkness
Of shyness
And some foretold quivers
Terribly
She is restless for his
Untimely arrival
The claws of the conqueror
Grip her
Smooth porcelain hands
Her heart
Is finally conquered
Now see her
Her hands praying for love
In the temple of upcoming desires.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem