Boxing poem

A poem by Charles Bertin:

Bodies crucified in the night, golden shackles of the angels!

Delight, oh bliss more powerful than the sea!

Under the heavens' desert, two living things merge

My love surrenders to this sour craving

I embrace the foe designated by the gods

I yield, I conquer, I inhale his breath

I can see under his eyelids the gleaming fire

which longing grants a loathing gaze

I adore his sweat and drink his tears

and, once the fight is over, I contemplate

love's enduring blasphemy:

nude, broken, with both eyes closed,

my winning rival, more wounded than myself...