The Larch Flower

Your buttocks blessed by the sun,
the earth and the moon,
drag me into your wake,
my female larch flower,
green as an emerald from paradise
and the winter sea,
so that it seems I'm entering
a light yielding humus,
rich and substantial,
made of matter and air!


I feel I have at my command
vast reserves of energy
that renew themselves at your
healthy holy touch,
at your miraculous salutary touch!


Yes, until now touching
a creature whose warmth
would complement my demonic drunkenness
was my greatest want!


And now I think I've found
the open-Sesame of solitude
which is the freedom
to leave untouched or to make a conquest,
according to whether our state of mind
is crepuscular and decadent,
or, instead,
euphoric and soaring free!


Through winter's invigorating air,
I can feel the spells of spring
floating,
precocious anemones,
imaginary primroses,
and daffodils to come!


And I'm certain
that the almond trees which will blossom
in a few days time,
will bring me the resurrection of the flesh
and the rebirth of my soul
on a new foundation,
as solid as the four thousand
pillars of Thebes!


Already the scent of thyme
reaches me from the Attic mountains
and fragrant incense rises
from schismatic churches
where they're celebrating the marriage,
that once was thought apocryphal,
of Jesus with Mary Magdalene!


For it's Mary the prostitute
who is the wife of Our Lord
and the true church of Christ,
just as the Sulamite
was the soul of Solomon
and the real temple of Jerusalem!

FROM THE COLLECTION OF POEMS "COEUR DE CINABRE"

PUBLISHED BY ENCRES VIVES, SEPTEMBER 2005.
TRANSLATED IN ENGLISH BY NORTON HODGES
ON SEPTEMBER THE 3RD, 2005