What a jubilant wind,
Giving birth
A three-head creature,

In which her eyes get
The Divine naked!

What a rough kiss,
Setting
On her pale skin,

In which the Sweetness
Of her mouth
Becomes a Hymn
Of an intense Desire!

A red song rules
Over her soul,
And no one is willing
To rest,
Until the last chorus is finished,
And the crescendo spared!

For Creation does reside
On Pleasure,
And they both know,
How to sway,
And be loved;

On the road to my Fate,
I can only survive
By recalling,
I’m still part
Of such a dance;

The rain gets everyone wet,
But the water sprinkled is what,
This earth requires,
To get swelled,

Whereas all fragrances become,
The air that is breathed,

And the necessity to be satisfied when,
We need it.