I Must Praise Your Body

I must praise your body; 

It’s like the earth’s dark soil

spoiled by the tropical sun, redolent of harvest,

I bury my eager hands into your fertility,

and bring out the rich greenery.


I drink from your lips the nectar of life; spring

is in your saffron-colored perianth.

My body is burning,

from my loins to my eyes,

the battlefield of virtue and sin.


I’m a proud man, broken by you.

The vengeance of love bends me;

The pain of love crushes me;

And forgetfulness saves me.

Red Lips

I’ve always yearned for those red lips,

those lips with the color of a ripe cherry,

ready to burst, ready to fall,

and the breath of harvest enthralls me.


So I’ve been looking everywhere in this town,

in every cafe, in every store,

in every place where men meet for pleasure,

Eros is with me and he has lips of fire.


But I’ve never found them…never…

until one sad afternoon when the daffodil

prolongs its shadow against the setting sun,

I see them half hidden inside my rhymes…

At Bund Eighteen With Arizmendi

The hot season sends in waves and waves

of unfamiliar faces to the bund, 

like a mosaic of dots flowing on the street;

you open your arms up and wide

on the terrace of Bund Eighteen;

The wind almost lifts you, young Icarus,

and tosses you away into the sea of faces.

With a hearty laugh,

you pour yourself some rum.


Not so much the same a century ago,

I suppose,

no beeping red lights urged them to go

toward the riverside;

maybe much quieter ,

and the dark facade of Bund Eighteen

took into its memory the sad figure of a man,

with open arms he stood facing the open field,

before him the sun was like fire.

But the breeze only recalled a moment,

the sound of petals falling from a twig.


But of course that was a century ago, 

The river runs quietly on the bund,

and the river knows the loneliness of a man 

because loneliness, like the river, changes not.


I watch your masculine face glow slightly

in the setting sun,

behind you the tower shines like the Rhine gold.

You come back to me, 

and your steps are my heart beats.

do we have the tender night?

I ask and put on the face of an ancient river.


you smile and avert your eyes.


-written in 2016 revised 2018

A Date With A Poet


Take my hand,

when the nocturnal waves surge up the land.

The night bares her sensual bosom to us,

The night, like the vestal virgin, floods

her beckoning look at us.

Let’s go to our destined rendezvous

and leave this messy lust-ridden room.

Just you and I

venture into the fatalistic high.

O the muttering streets do not know us

nor the solitude accompanying us

in this teeming multitude.

But the sound of the approaching tram,

the beeping red lights and stomping feet

all remind us that it’s time,

Yes it’s time to measure the desire

on the contour of every passing face.

and mine as well,

a hot summer night has opened my careless shirt.

But we must go now, when the clock strikes eight,

to the snow mounted Andes at the turn of the first street,

there, the face of a beggar , a shepherd too ,

Imagine his self-same song that comes with each sunset .

Then we embark on the tram down Peru,

where civilizations died and rose anew , warriors,

like the policemen in the booth , scarred in a holy rite.

And on the second avenue runs the wilderness of Siberia ,

come deep to the cypress old, come,

they are sentinels to a desolate dream.

How the world spreads out on these streets,

just for you and I, my dear , just for you and I !

At the end of the journey

I am taking you  to my memories old,

to my unbound imagination and poetic repose,

to joy, to sadness, to light and darkness,

to my soaring ideals that no one can harness.

I have nothing, I gave you the world,

I have laid my heart open in words.

– written in Hongkong in 2016 , revised 2018.

On The Lover’s Night


Let the light burn , let the rose bloom

for tonight, it’s lover’s night,

and the bridge that connects you and I arches

toward a river of stars, look, my love,

there is the destination for us, there ,

up on the throne of Perseus and Andromeda.