Of so much moon were your hips to me,
of all the sun your deep mouth and its delight,
of so much burning light like honey in the shade

Oh invade me with your scalding mouth,
search me if you like, with your nocturnal eyes,
but allow me to sail and sleep upon your name.

I have hunger for your mouth, for your voice, for your hair

I repeated: come with me, as if I were dying,
and no one saw in my mouth the moon that was bleeding,
no one saw the blood that was rising into the silence.
Oh love, now let us forget the star with thorns!

Your eyes have the colour of the moon,

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.