Pablo

A man can sleep around, no questions asked; but if a woman makes nineteen or twenty mistakes she's a tramp.

Body of a Woman
Body of a woman, white hills, white thighs,
you look like a world, Iying in surrender.
My rough peasant's body digs in you
and makes the son leap from the depth of the earth.
I was alone like a tunnel. The birds fled from me,
and night swamped me with its crushing invasion.
To survive myself I forged you like a weapon,
like an arrow in my bow, a stone in my sling.
But the hour of vengeance falls, and I love you.
Body of skin, of moss, of eager and firm milk.
Oh the goblets of the breast ! Oh the eyes of absence !
Oh the roses of the pubis! Oh your voice, slow and sad !
Body of my woman, I will persist in your grace.
My thirst, my boundless desire, my shifting road!
Dark river-beds where the eternal thirst flows
and weariness follows, and the infinite ache.
[by Pablo Neruda]