My soul has joined her foreign hands
At the horizon of my glances;
Grant my scattered dreams
Between the lips of your angels!
Waiting under my weary eyes,
And her mouth open in prayers
Extinguished between my eyelids
And of which the lilies do not bloom;
She satisfies at the bottom of my dreams,
Her breasts denuded under my eyelashes
And her eyes gazing half-open at the risks
Awakened by the thread of illusions.