Delight – the bum I cherish, once more, as in the past,You are proffering to me like some delicious treat.As you raise up your skirt high, and lean into the street, Out of the open window, while munching on a crust.And since you're sort of bashful at what I'm bound to start,You're talking to a neighbor who hangs the washing out, And scribbling recipes for cooking sauerkraut,While with my hands I'm gently spreading your tail apart…When drenched in heavy dew drops, oblivious of all,I'm wallowing in you like soft swine in sweet slop-bowls,You laugh and tell the neighbor your household duties call,And slowly turn to face me and suck my very soul – Tongue thrust into my mouth, yea, afire with heat, You back out of your slippers with your frenetic feet.
by Emil Brumaru (b. 1939)
