Tresses (rough)

Oh locks, waving fleecily to the collar
Oh buckles oh perfume charged with nonchalance
Ecstasy. To populate this evening the alcove obscure
with memories sleeping in this hair
I want to wave it in the air like a handkerchief

Langourous Asia, and burning Africa
All a world distant, absent, almost gone
Lives in your depth, aromatic forest
As other spirits wave on music
Mine, oh my love, swims on your perfume

I will go over there, where trees and man, full of the sap of life
Swoon lengthily under the ferocity of the climate
Strong tresses, be the wave which lifts me
You contain, sea of ebony, a blinding dream
Of sails, of rowers, of pennants and of masts

A resounding port where my soul can drink
In great draughts the perfume, the sound and the colour
Where the vessels, gliding in the gold and watered silk
Open their vast arms to embrace the glory
Of a pure sky where shivers the eternal heat

I´ll plunge my head, in love with intoxication
In this black ocean where the other is confined
And my subtle spirit which the rolling caresses
Will know to retrieve from you, oh fertile indolence
Infinite cradlings of embalmed leisure

Blue locks, pavilion of strained shadows
You give me the blue of the immense round sky
On the fleecy borders of your twisted locks
I ardently intoxicate myself with scents confounded
of oils of cocoa, of musk and of tar

Longtime! Always! My hand in your heavy mane
Will seed ruby, pearl and sapphire
So that to my desire you will never be deaf!
Are you not the oasis where I dream, and the gourd
Where I drink, in long draughts, the wine of memory?