Arthur Rimbaud - Lice Hunters lyrics

When the child's forehead full of red torments Begs the white swarm of vague dreams To take him, two charming sisters loom Above his bed, with fragile fingers and silver nails. They sit him before a window opened wide Where a jumble of flowers bathes in blue air, And then, bewitching the terrible, the delicate fingers Walk through his heavy, dew-matted hair. He listens to the song of their uneasy breath, Long earthy blossoms of rose-rich honey Interrupted now and then by a salivary s**ing, Tongues licking lips, hungry for a kiss. He hears their black lids bat beneath The scented silence; their gentle pulsing fingers k** little lice beneath royal nails crackling Sounds resounding through his gray stupor. But the wine of a Sloth is rising in him, A harmonica's sigh that sets you reeling; Beneath the slowness of their caresses, the child Feels an urge to cry, welling and dying, endlessly.