LANGUAGE OF ECSTACY

You brought me into this realm of trance,
And with it into a paradise of ecstasy
The flame of love enters, and becomes an insatiable thirst
You taught me the art of love directing towards the unseen being

The sentiment whose natural direction is towards objects of sense
Of a love defined by the absence of the beloved
Choosing to be without expectation
Protesting against all lower uses of love
Barren, extravagant,
But a love only for the divine

You showed me that to be the servant of love
When hurt, to taste the subtle luxury of chastisement
Of reconciliation— and the rebirth of my spirituality, too, knows that
The delicacies of love

Underneath this strange cord of circumstances
As in some medicated air, exotic flowers of sentiment expand, between us
A secluded and unaccustomed beauty, frail, androgynous
The light almost shining through us
Such loves were delicate and adventurous to last more than for a moment


You are like a beautiful sickness of the senses
Of reverie, illusion, delirium
The strangest creations of sleep seem here
By some dreadful gates, to cross the limit of the dawn

When we are together I craved the maddening white glare of the sun
And tyranny of the moon, not tender and afar, but close down
That of the sorcerer's moon, large and feverish
The night skies colouring is intricate and delirious, as of scarlet lilies

Our body exudes the influence of summer like a poison in one's blood
With a sudden upsurge of a sickening bewilderment
Nauseating of life and all things
The outlets of our passions are sealed, begets a tension of nerve
In which the sensible world comes to one with unbreakable intensity
All redness is turned into blood, all water into tears



A wild, trembling sensuousness in our body
In which the things of nature begin to play
A strange delirious part the things of nature our mind had a deep sense
No real escape to the world without us

The motions of our body only toughened its prevailing mood
And were in conspiracy with one's own brain against one
A single sentiment invaded the world
Everything was infused with a motive drawn from the soul
Making the starling and the swallow its messengers
Illustrates the whole attitude of love in this electric atmosphere
Bent as by miracle or magic to the service of our passion

Your voice is like a lullaby put into my ears
Like a playing sentinel during the night
To stare at for and proclaim the dawn
And sometimes a saccharine into my mouth when we are about to separate

But know what splendour! you give to the things of my morning
And how there comes something of relief
From physical pain with the first white film in the sky
Where I can see your face in the clouds

Your countenance inanimate things but my longing for you
And all the sweetness of my deepest love
A spirituality of touch all its own, is in you
Filled of fascination, open only to the spirit, divined
And aspired to a better daylight
You are sunshine to my senses.


The complexities and the enigma,
Which my mind spins for itself occupied my spirits for a time
But sooner or later they come back with a sharp rebound to the simple plain passions
Of anger, desire, regret, pity, and fear
And what correspond to them in the sensuous world—bare, abstract fire, water, air, tears, sleep, silence

The splendor of our moments have become the master of dreams
Of sleep and the desire of sleep—sleep in which no one walks
Dreams, not like that of a nightmare but full of happy, childish wonder as in the nascent world
It is a world in which the unicorn and the ram with the fleece of gold are believable.



Your whispers seem a song sung always to be sung for the first time.
Your kisses filled my senses as intimation only familiar to birds
Every time you caress me there is an impression of surprise
As of people first waking from the golden age, at fire, snow, wine, the touch of water as one swim, the salt taste of the sea

Yes, the desire is overwhelming towards the body for its own sake
I can feel your soul is divined through me
You bring into this white dawn thoughts of the delirious night just over and made my sense of longing and relief deeper
And the sense of time standing still

This never-ending suggestion, pensive or passionate, of the shortness of moments
This is contrasted by your thoughts and aims with the bloom of the world
And gives new seduction to it
The sense of death and the desire of beauty
The desire of beauty quickened by the sense of death

I love you without asking how, when and where
I love you because I know no other way
I love you with the purity of my thoughts and heart