The Memory of Mnasidika

They danced one in front of the other,

with a rapid and fleeing movement;

they seemed always to wish to enlace each other,

and yet they never touched,

except with the tips of their lips.

When they turned their backs in dancing,

they looked at each other, heads on their shoulders,

and the sweat shone on their raised arms,

and their fine hair flowed across their breasts.

The languor of their eyes, the fire in their cheeks,

the seriousness of their faces, were three ardent songs.

They grazed each other furtively,

they bent their bodies on their hips.

And suddenly, they fell,

to finish the supple dance on the ground...

Memory of Mnasidika, it was then that you appeared,

and everything, other than your image, was unwelcome.