Translation:Plaster Cast

Silence. Here night has fallen, and behind the cemetery the sun has left; here are the tears of a thousand eyes: don’t come back; my heart has already died. Silence. Here everything is cloaked in severe pain; and it barely burns, like a weak gaslight, this passion.

Spring will come. You’ll sing “Eva” from a horizontal minute, from a stove in which the spikenards of Eros will burn. Forge in there your pardon for the poet, which will grieve me still, like the nail that closes a coffin!

But... one night of lyricism, your good breast, your red sea, in spotting afar my corsair ship-my ingratitude- full of memories, will lash it with the waves of fifteen years. After, your apple orchard, your offered lips, that wastes itself one last time on me, that dies a bloody death for having loved much, like a pagan sketch of Jesus.

Beloved! And you will sing; and what’s feminine in my soul will shudder, as in a mourning cathedral.