Page 48 - Contrast1990

Her mind will be a vast sea of tastes-
music and poetry, fiction and debate will never
pass by her untouched. Her soul, too, I'd like for myself.
Her infinite grace will know no bounds-the true meaning of
lover-
for who is a lover whose love goes to waste? If she found
a cat in her last cup of milk, she'd help it wipe its face.
I'll be complete when the future shows her face-
All problems will seem minor and my life will have new taste.
We'll lie down in the hilltop's grassy arms, this night we won't be
found-
I'll wish by the tail of a screaming sugar star that we'll never
fall asleep, but rather do the things one does with one's lover-
and I'll thank God that I won't die by myself.
The grass on the hilltop will grow forever-
(Except for the flat patches left by the backs of other lovers)
and I'm happy that I've flattened some myself.

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