Nervestorm of Anguish
Sweet Jewess, unnail my clay transit;
unnail my nerve tension and my pain ...
Unnail, eternal lover, my protracted anxiety and
the two nails from my wings and the nail from my love!
I am back from the desert where I have often fallen;
put away the hemlock and regale me with your wines:
scare off my assassins with a love sob,
their grimaces are the iron blindness of Longinus!
Pull out my nails, oh my new mother!
Symphony of olives, decant your tears!
And wait, seated next to my dead flesh,
as the menace subsides, and the lark ascends!
You go ... return ... Your mourning plaits my great cilice
with drops of curare, sharp edges of humanity,
the rocky dignity there in your chastity,
and the Judithesque mercury of your inner honey.
It is eight o'clock on a creamy, bewitched morning ...
And it is cold ... A dog goes by gnawing the bone of another
dog that was ... And the match that I extinguished
in capsules of silence starts crying in my nerves!
And in my heretic soul, coffee's Dionysian spleen
sings its sweet Asiatic feast ...!
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