The Lover Asleep on the Poet’s Breast
You’ll never understand how much I love you
because you sleep and are asleep
in me. In tears I conceal you, pursued
by a voice of penetrating steel.
Rule that prods flesh and morning star alike
now pierces my pained breast
and the wings of your stern soul
have been gored by troubled words.
In the gardens waiting people leap
expecting your body and my pain
on horses of light with green manes.
But, my life, sleep on.
Hear my ruined blood in the violins!
They follow us, biding their time! (查看原文)
