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Quietly

Quietly he lies next to me,
his boy's head cuddled
against my body.
My fingers gently stroke
silken muscular skin.

I kiss eyes, nose and mouth,
carried away on his breath
and touched by his youth.

I feel the flow of his warmth,
his heartbeat in my chest.
His picture comes to life.
For a moment I believe in happiness.




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the poet

lovely verse he strives to write
of tinkling voice, the boyish smile,
the glance so innocent of guile
the body, still so pure and white

his stanzas fail to form sonnet
and how he seeks them in his mind
the lovesong's words he cannot find
he is too tired, he goes to bed

he is longing for a young boyfriend
a lifelong lover till the end
to regain strength and happiness

who kisses his body with caress
to be touched and to adore
and soon he sleeps and thinks no more
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re-encounter

shall i see
him again?

the boy with
the fresh lips
the gentle hands

the boy with
the white shoes
the radiant smile

the boy with
the clear eyes
the moist hair

shall i see
them again?


poems by Olaf Korder
all translations: Huub de Bel


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