"WITH THE FLOWER OF HER MOIST LIPS TO DRINK
With the flower of her moist lips to drink
she draws from the crystal. I slowly
pour in drops the sweet and ardent wine
into that red flower of pleasure;
and bent over her, a silent cupbearer,
I watch the forms delightfully:
her head of adolescent Hermes
and the rising spiral of the glass.
Now, since the pupils to the loving
concord of the two stupendous forms
I alone, I alone, I alone have delighted,
I enjoy shattering the precious cup;
and suddenly a vain desire seizes me
to shatter the well-loved limbs."
Created by d'Araprì