O maternal love,
heartbreaking for the gold
of bodies suffused
with the secret of wombs.
And beloved unconscious
attitudes of the lewd
perfume that laughs
along innocent limbs.
Heavy fire bolts
of hair . . . cruel
indifference of glances …
faithless attentions …
Unnerved by tears
so gentle I go back home,
my flesh scorched
by radiant smiles.
And I’m going mad in the middle
of this ordinary night
after a thousand other nights
of such impure fervor.
Translated by David Stivender
and J. D. McClatchy
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