When just a poem does the trick...

Nichita Stãnescu
The golden age of love

My hands are in love,alas,

my mouth loves -

and see, I am suddenly aware

that things are so close to me

I can hardly walk among them

without suffering.

It is a sweet feeling

of waking, of dreaming,

and I am here now, without sleep -

I clearly see the ivory gods,

I take them in my hands and

thrust them, laughing, in the moon

up to their sculpted hilts -

the wheel of an ancient ship, adorned

and spun by sailors.

Jupiter is yellow, Hera

the magnificent shades to silver.

I strike the wheel with my left hand and it moves.

It is a dance of sentiments, my love,

many a goddess of the air, between the two of us.

And I, the sail of my soul

billowed with longing,

look for you everywhere,and things come

ever closer,

crowding my chest, hurting me.