When you pass me with a light step,Sweet foot upon the cobblestones.You see a bird, a leaf trembles,Like a grandmother telling a tale...
I see you and I hold my breath,I feel your footsteps from afar.Your footfall melts the frost around,Waking up the sleeping street...
The street had dozed for days on end,Silence at evening and at morning.Not even the lake’s willow spoke,With only moon and hope upon its shoulders...
Your stride is like an open compass,Soft skin of a crimson hue.Measuring the meters of the street,While I stand in it, a “sick” man...
Someone says that you are married,Another says you are a sprite.I stay silent, watching you,Springtime flower and delight...
I know it, but I have a problem,I cannot go without seeing you.Because you are a rare fruit,That does not grow in every field.
Your thick hair is a whole forest,Like a waterfall on a lovely shoulder.My mind will leave me because of it,And the unseen will come to pass.
You are no woman, but a river,Flowing slowly, then with force.My eyes, filled with waves and foam,Go sailing right across your body...
It roars whenever you take a step,It rustles every time you breathe.And when my gaze catches your breast,I cannot even swallow my own spit.
Someone stops and looks at me,Another says, his eyes went dark.But I won’t hide it, you have “killed” me,For in this world you have no equal...
You have no equal to my eyes,Though the forest of women is full of trees.But no one else knows except for me,You are the only tree in all the world...
For the world knows fruit trees too,Laden with apples and with cherries.They throw stones at them, eat them by hand,But not a single one is quite like you...
Your fruits remain all covered up,Harvested only by dreams and eyes.You keep them adorned up high,With jewelry and with lace...
I feel like grabbing hold of your tree,By the waist, higher up, or at the base.To open my eyes and lips so wide,And rock it and shake it...
And I swear to you by God above,And I swear to you by the heavens.I wouldn’t let a single little cherry go to waste,Without tasting its flavor and fragility...
And let them say that he is crazy,And let them say, has he no shame.While wandering through your branches,I have no time to answer anyone...
And let the police come take me away,And sentence me to prison time.Love has a price to pay as well,A kiss without permission, a year as a monk...
But even if they lock me up in there,I cannot escape this sentence of yours.I will feel your nectar on my lips,Though far from the world in a corner.
And if you pass by there one day,I will know it just from your step.And whether it is night or day,I will see you with my mind’s eye...
And if you pass by two or three times,I will grab the policeman by the sleeve.To open the window just for a moment,To see you and ease my longing with your stride.
And to tell you from that little window,Now that I’ve seen you, I don’t mind dying!And for you to say, I read your poems,Do not die, for I am waiting for you!
And the sun will shine upon the dew!
