the sorrows and pains
that cause great love
They are just like lightning and thunder
that precede a bright morning


the sour taste of defeat
Alas of the defeated
there is no story for them
nor sorry
no compassion
they fade from the memory of the times


please dance for me
and move like the golden spikes of May
under a brilliant sun
please dance for me
fill my cup with the promise
of endless nights of wild pleasure