The moonlight has poured,
Down the svelte rivers of their bodies,
With the candles of irises,
Their hips shimmied into a veranda butterfly,
Drifting within sunflower petals,
Shy, with a nectar and honey desire,

Hymns to dream upon,
And within the exotic shores,
A crescent, a vineyard,
luminous and enchanted,
To solace the champagne,
And starry nights,

Something beautiful,
Sways in their hips,
Something lovely,
Glows within their enchanted beauty,
Like crescent moons,
Nightingales,
To caress the irises of the soul,
With all the melodies,
Of the moonlit rain,

Their exquisite loveliness,
What caresses them with ethereal glow,
How many hymns to light their candles,
And rhythms,
When they sway,
To a most luminous crescent,
And enchanted vineyard,
Their souls sigh like an ethereal garden
Reynaldo Casison