The Pleasures of Tempo
Though he is not to blame, I feign sulking To bring out the best in him. The pinpricks of sulking do not discourage But strengthen love. Is there a heaven higher than love’s sulk With hearts that join like earth and water? From this prolonged pout arises the weapon To break the defence of my heart. Even for the guiltless it is a joy to forgo briefly The shoulders from one’s clasp. More joyous than the meal is its digestion. So is sulking more joyous than union. In lovers' quarrels the loser wins, As shown when they make up. Will she sulk again to bring back the pleasure Of that union drenched in sweat? May the bright-jewel sulk, And may the night be prolonged for me to implore her! The joy of love lies in sulking, for that joy is realized While embracing in union.