In leaden tears I write
the twilight of times
with the turbulent words
sailing on the ink of silence,
holding out the hand
to this hostess of poor drunkenness...
I write in the name of violence
who seduces the beautiful unknown
with a bouquet of daggers ,
tracing in the flesh a tatoo of dark harvests,
drawing this taboo of tender death ...
I write a dawn at the desolate bedside
of the beloved corpse
and the graceful ballet of blue flies ...
I write the symphony of the great cemeteries
under the moon where old elephants
go with dignity ..
And libraries burning to warm
trembling shadows ..
I write for you sated ministers ,
courtesans ,your breasts withered by your offerings .
Princes , presidents and clever jesters !
I write your requiem ,
Lucifer knocking at the door
Mozart thrown into the mass grave
doctor Goebbels resurrecting ...
I write for a summer love
that ended with the lamb
immolated in oblivion ...
Tomorrow\'s visitors won\'t be coming back,
they were once ..Upon a drama ...
I write ,abandoning myself
to the scent of the black rose
that is about to die ...