To my sweet love, Aleixandre.
To the glistening pools that penetrate my pale soul
And reach beyond the shell of an outcast.
To those pink virgin roses that speak tender nothings
And taste the ardour of my racing pulse.
To that supple silk that lightens my darkest thought
And slides fluently against my roughness.
To the golden rays that glide through my sunup fancies
And curl around my dawdling fingers.
To all the in-and-outs of your days and ways,
To all your tempers and your judgments,
To all your dispositions and beliefs,
To all of my sweet love,
I give all of myself.
En gage d'amour, Georges<i>