My creation, Kanatha –
Bathe your feet in light
And come
Lay your braids on a loom-woven pillow
Let your lips enfold the grape
Intoxicating you
When the harvest is done.
Do not kiss the moon
That moves over your slumbering cheek
And don’t forget fresh hay for the goat
So she won’t forget the milk
O bare branches,
There is a skilful thief
Upon the swelling buds
Your first desire
Poured forth water –
A sacrifice craved by the God of Love
You were always like me
Tenderness lying on marble
So, sleep in peace
And as soon as the God of War sleeps, I will wake you
Don’t forget how you were, in front of the mirror
Naked
Stumbling over your own beauty
I am afraid for you, of your own hand
Revealing your landscape in flames
I will not let the dream stranger knock at your gate
And so, sleep, Kanatha
Perhaps, one day, you will wake up wine-soaked
And I will tell you
What these sacrifices have done.
A new dawn is creeping
From your mirror
Don’t lose
Your sacred face
