Do you remember the thing we saw, my soul,
That summer morning, so beautiful,
At a turning in the path, a filthy carrion,
Legs in the air, like a lascivious woman,
Burning and sweating poisons,
Opened carelessly, cynically,
The sun shone on this fester,
As though to cook it to a turn,
The elements she had combined;
And the sky saw the superb carcass
Open like a flower.
To swoon away upon the grass.
The flies swarmed on that rotten belly,
Of spawn, flowing like a thick liquid
Along its living tatters.
- And yet you will be like this corruption,
Like this horrible infection,
O star of my eyes, sun of my being,
You, my angel, my passion.
That summer morning, so beautiful,
At a turning in the path, a filthy carrion,
Legs in the air, like a lascivious woman,
Burning and sweating poisons,
Opened carelessly, cynically,
The sun shone on this fester,
As though to cook it to a turn,
The elements she had combined;
And the sky saw the superb carcass
Open like a flower.
To swoon away upon the grass.
The flies swarmed on that rotten belly,
Of spawn, flowing like a thick liquid
Along its living tatters.
- And yet you will be like this corruption,
Like this horrible infection,
O star of my eyes, sun of my being,
You, my angel, my passion.