My soul is Hellenic,
in love with the perfect form.
Florentine, subtle and political .
Bathed in the sweet fragrance
of Ispahan roses .
It sails on a spectral ship
through unfathomable imaginary oceans .
My soul is Germanic ,
it rises toward the light
and craves the breath of hell ...
Old Mercurian warming himself
by the dying ambers of a lost seduction
that you sometimes think you feel
in the evasiveness of a glance .
I laugh at seeing me so repulsive
in this one-way mirror !
Soul seeded with the screaming weather of ages...
\'\' Padre ,keep the chalice of Mammon away ,
I reject this vile refuse !
In you,I don\'t trust ,but I keep the faith !
Am I really so insane ? \'\'
My soul ,has neither leash no throne to kneel before !
Prisoner in the margins of the excess ,
it professes neither message of brotherhood ,
nor the gospel of hate .
Cosmic witness .
Sitting on the top of the inspired mountain ,
smiling at the trivial passions of submissive .
I , prince of the Titans .
Night after night, devoured by this solar raptor ,
such is the price of immortality !
Constantly reborn in an unfinished landscape
that Rafael left on the workbench ...
Torn soul of Prometheus bound .