Pleasure is a golden hillside,

Passionate and still,

Your bedroom and your hands,

Are free;

After unshed tears,

Now much of life is tucked away,

No longer touched by will,

In your hearts wilderness,

Vast and undisturbed,

Empty of all sentiments,

Renews the moments glory,

So may years of tenderness,

Also sung unheard,

Radiant beyond all sense,

Yet tell loves ancient story.