There is a strangeness in my soul
A dark and brooding sea. Nor all the waves on Capri's shoal Might stay the thirst of me. For men have come and men have gone For pleasure or for hire. Though they lay broken at the dawn They did not quench my fire. My pity is a deathly ruth I burn men with my eyes. Oh, would all men were one strong youth To break between my thighs. Any many a man his fortune spread To glut my ecstacy As I lay panting on his bed In shameless nudity. But all of ancient Egypt's gold Can never equal this, Nor all the treasures kingdoms hold, A single hour of bliss. Within my villa's high domain Are boys from Britain's rocks And dark eyed slender lads from Spain And Greeks with perfumed locks. And youths of soft and subtle speech From furtherest Orient, Wherever arms of legions reach And Roman chains are sent. Why may I not be satiate With kisses of some boy— They only rouse my passions spate I never know such joy As when through chambers filled with noise Of wails and pleas and sighs I stride among my naked boys With whips that bruise their thighs. I drift through mists red flaming flung On hills of ecstacies As shoulder-wealed and buttock-stung They shriek and kiss my knees.
Erotic poetry
