I am drooling at such of the poems you write,
Subtle body is getting excited.
And without any earthly illusion of sight,
hands or lips my new verse is erupting.
Relaxation of poetry is gently quiet,
It is smiling and it is not ruffling,
And the clouds immerse themselves into the sky,
Where your light caresses me mildly.
I can not take my eyes from the letters of yours -
The light-limits without an access!
Passion's talking to me in the rounds of commas,
Even simply in spaces, in accents!
In their places the traits of the childhood are seen
And your lightsome voice in exaltation!
As a friendly and babbling baby who squeaks,
What I cherish as my own hair!
While I'm looking at you I can't take eyes away,
I can not stop the music I hear!
And I want to put just like palms under the rain -
To your tongue - my erogenous ear!