I am not jealous of what came before me

I am not jealous of who came before me 

I am not jealous of who shall come after me

My love,

Come with men on your lips 

Thousands of men in-between the stripes of your feet

Come with a dozen of men in-between the walls of your chest 

Come with men embroiled with bravery

Come with men inundated in the pool of beauty

Come with gods

Let the sun bestow more men unto your soul 

Let the evening's wind blow men into your path 

Come like rainfall; 

Full of drowned men, which flows down through rocks of passion and to the seas, rivers, eternal turbulence of the oceans, to eternity, to stellar centuries, to time!  

Come with them,

To where I shall be waiting

For you, my love,

Under the rose flower's umbrella, 

Lying cosily in its field

Come with men, 

To where I shall await the melody of your feet;

As it graces the ground with its majestic notes of love

And causes it to ogle and tingle with excitement  

Come with them,

All of them, 

To where I shall wait for you

We shall always be alone;

Only you and I 

Always alone.