Ah
The dense fog in the garden is waking me up
Sweet and fragrant,
waiting for my coming
Falling ripe apples,
what a joy of fertility
A force is born that makes the moon shine on my feet
It makes the lake golden,
and the moutains live
It opens my thighs and then my fingers,
little ones,
fly up and down
In my sun,
in my sun
A hole in my loneliness
My white wings, the sugar, bring you to the blue
Flowers in the table,
the taste of salt on my knees
A force is born that makes the moon shine on my feet
It makes the lake golden, and the mountains live
It makes the lake golden, and the mountains live
It opens my thighs and then my fingers,
little ones,
fly up and down
In my sun,
in my sun
What are names?
What are words?
How much the heart of the girl is burning now
It makes the lake golden,
and the mountains live
In my sun, in my sun
In my sun,
in
my sun
In my sun, in my sun
In my sun, in my sun