Translation:Naked in Mud

Like horrible frogs to the atmosphere, dark faces rise to the lips. On the blue Sahara of Substance walks a gray verse, a dromedary.

A grimace of cruel dreams phosphoresces. And the blind man who died full of snowy voices. And to wake up, poet, nomad, to the harsh day of being a man.

The Hours feverishly go on, and blond centuries of joy are cut short in the recesses. Who pulls the thread so much: who without piety lowers our nerves, threadbare strings, to the grave!

Love! And you too. Black stonings are engendered in your mask and break it. The grave is still a woman’s sex that attracts man!