allow yourself to ripen on my warmth;

            Urge my hands to ramble in your garden,
            encourage me to try its curious scent. 
            Mouth, kisses, tongue – let me die! 

            And as the bliss builds to the brink of pain
            and your soul begins to rage and sigh,
            perish with you in this shadowed heaven
            where the silver leaves shall let us lie
            all night, hidden from the wild moon.    

 

          Listen to this madrigal