From our two closed mouths a new island would surge. <br />No vessel, no time would ever know of its ports, <br />The ocean of our flesh would dash against its shores - <br />An island that would be in innocence immerged, <br />Far beyond our kisses, far beyond our glance and <br />Where our distraught desire only could ever land, <br />Keen on teaching our nights which fire flares, which will merge, <br />Which song, a blaze alike, consumes two bare bodies, <br />So that on its own paths and with impunity <br />They may reach the peaceful, luminous ecstasy - <br />An island that from our two closed mouths would surge. <br /> <br />The gods who wrought the nights would hate our harmony. <br />Dilapidated shrines have proclaimed their decay. <br />Our stars illuminate heavens which longer stay. <br />Neither deftly scanned hymns, nor priests, nor pageantry <br />May erect for Amor so divine an abode, <br />As do sway of muscles, mysterious strength bestowed, <br />A burning blindness more lucid than are our eyes, <br />The greedy hand which grasps the other's hand, blindly <br />The cry - then on the berth, inert, vast and empty, <br />A silence unknown to the gods, the gods so wise. <br /> <br />The gods, the gods so wise, should they have existed, <br />Would have but clothed our bed with ignorance and night, <br />Removed challenging fire from our stillness, kept quiet <br />Lest they should have scared the wandering ecstasy. <br />We shall be able to invent a dashing world, <br />The dance of the bright stars whose conduct is twofold, <br />Fate and precise instant when one must wait or stand, <br />The secrete Paradise and Hell as fair as gold, <br />And though our Eden be envied by all those gods, <br />They wouldn't have dared to upset our deep quietude, <br />Those gods, those gods so wise, should they have existed.<br /><br />Michel Galiana<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-isle/
