I
No blasfemes, oh poeta, y recuérdalo siempre:
La mujer es deseable, tirársela está bien.
Aunque obeso es su culo la prestigia bastante
Y yo le he saboreado alguna vez
De rodillas la abrazo y lamo su rajita,
Mientras mis dedos hurgan el anillo de atrás…
Y los hermosos pechos impúdicamente perezosos,
Y desde ese culo sobre todo en la cama,
Sirve como almohadón, o resorte eficaz
Para que el hombre penetre en lo más hondo
Del vientre de la mujer que ama,
Se apaciguan: tanta frescura y redondez elástica,
Son un sagrario apetecible donde el deseo renace,
Fugaz y solapado, prometiendo juveniles proezas,
Ese culo rechoncho, más práctico que voluptuoso,
Con el hombre, flor de alegría y estética,
Y proclamarlo vencedor?
‘’Culo del hombre, alto honor de la hélade y divino
Adorno de roma verdadera, y aun mas divino
En Sodoma, muerta y martirizada por tu gloria. ’’
De Ofelia, de Cornelio y de Desdémona para cantar
En versos magníficos que un tonto ha denigrado,
Del cuerpo masculino sin triunfo celestial,
La aburguesada y femenina Europa a su pesar admira
Al rey Luis de Baviera, ese rey virgen cuyo corazón
Solamente por los hombres palpita,
La carne, también la carne de la mujer proclama
El culo, la verga el toso y el lomo del arrogante casto.
Por todo ello, oh poeta, ya lo ha dicho Rousseau,
Es necesario apartar a la dama.
DO NOT BLASPHEME OH POET
I
Do not blaspheme, oh poet, and remember it always:
The woman is desirable, to throw it to him it is all right.
Although your anus is obese you give her prestige a lot
And I have savored you occasionally
That anus and teats, what a refuge of love,
On bended knees I embrace her and I lick your little slit,
While my fingers poke around the ring of back
And the beautiful indecently lazy breasts,
And from that anus most of all in bed,
Serve like cushion, or efficacious spring
In order that the man penetrates into the deepest
Of the belly of the woman that you love,
There my hands, also my arms and my feet,
They calm down: So much freshness and elastic roundness,
They are a desirable tabernacle where desire is reborn,
Fleeting and concealed, promising juvenile exploits,
But How comparing that good-natured anus,
That chubby, more practical anus than voluptuous,
With the man, flower of joy and esthetics,
And to proclaim it conqueror?
That is bad, has said the love and the voice about history:
Culo of the man, high honor of the hélade and divine
Adornment of true Rome, and even more divine
In Sodom, dead person and martyred for your glory. ''
Shakespeare forgets soon the feminine fragrance
Of Ofelia, of Cornelia and of Desdémona to sing
In magnificent verses that a fool has denigrated,
Of the masculine body without celestial triumph,
The valois became crazy for the machos, and in our era
The bourgeois and feminine Europe admires to her sorrow
To the king Louis of Baviera, that virgin king whose heart
Only for men it palpitates,
Meat, also the woman's meat proclamation
The anus, the yardarm the I cough and the chaste arrogant person's loin.
Throughout it, oh poet, already Rousseau has said it,
It is necessary to separate the lady.
PAUL VERLAINE
FRANCIA
1844-1896
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