I want to erase my anguish in verse
that will describe my youth of reveries,
roses stripped to make my bitter life worse
after all the vast pain and small worries.
And the journey East on that ship of fools,
prayer-seeds that blossomed into blasphemy,
the irritating swan among the pools,
fake blue nights, bohemian revelry.
Clavichord that played the void in silence,
you stole from me that sonata's delight,
orphaned boat, well-known, and hidden nest
that pacified the sweet and silver night.
The hope that is scented with these fresh herbs,
the nightingale's song at dawn in the spring,
the fate of the lily to be severed,
cursed by the vice, gleaning for what joy will bring...
d**h's amphora of sanctified poison
will transform life into inner torture.
We fear the clay that makes us so human,
our fleeting being. And there's the horror
of groping in dark fear that comes and goes,
cruel nightmares of this sleeping pierced by screams,
lost in the foreordained that no one knows,
for only She will wake us from these dreams.