Love makes us tremble like a young foliage,
For each of us is afraid of the same moment.
"My beloved," you say very low, "I love you so much."
Leave ... Close your eyes ... Do not talk ... Be wise ... "
I guess you are close to the fire of your face.
My temple in fever beats against your beating heart.
And, with your neck in your arms, I shudder as I feel
Your naked throat and its freshness of shell.
Listen to the wriggling of the wisteria.
It's evening ; it is sweet to be alone on earth,
To each other, mute and feeble with desire.
With a delicate kiss you open my eyelid;
I see you, and, confused, with a long sigh,
You smile in the happy expectation of mystery.
Charles Guerin
