TO HER BREASTS
by: Pierre Louÿs (1870-1925)
- LESH-LIKE flowers, O my breasts: how rich you are in voluptuousness! My breasts in my hands, what lack you of softness, and of mellow warmth and of youthful perfume?
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- Already you are polished like the breasts of a statue, and hard like the insensible marble. In order that you may submit, I will cherish you the more, you that were already loved.
- Your sleek and rounded form is the honor of my brown body, whether I imprison you under a necklace of gold, or leave you free and naked, you precede me with your splendor.
- Be then happy this night. If my fingers toy with you in caresses, you alone will know them until to-morrow morning; for this night Bilitis has paid Bilitis.
TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH BY:
HORACE M. BROWN
"To Her Breasts" is reprinted from Poetica Erotica. Ed. T.R. Smith. New
York: Crown Publishers, 1921. |
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POEMS BY PIERRE LOUYS |
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