The Dancer With Krotales

You attach to your light hands

your resounding krotales, Myrrhinidion, my dear,

and barely naked out of the dress,

you stretch your nervous limbs.

How pretty you are, arms in the air,

loins arched and breasts red!

You begin: you place your feet one in front of the other,

hesitate, and slide softly.

Your body bends like a scarf,

you caress your skin which shivers,

and voluptuousness floods your long fainted eyes.

Suddenly, you strike the krotales!

Arch yourself up on your raised feet,

shake your loins, throw your legs and your hands full of noise

call all the desires in a band around your spinning body.

We applaud with great cries, whether,

smiling over your shoulder,

you shake with a shiver your convulsive and muscular behind,

or you undulate almost extended,

to the rhythm of your memories.