The love night became desolate
My blood was a dead fox
It sailed toward the nameless lady
The one whose secrets were unveiled or betrayed
It sailed toward the gales
Draw a thing near to my front teeth
Any thing
The foxes move around me
The foxes lick now their sexual organs in my dead blood
Draw near
Your dawn is now full
Twenty years passed
Your window is now full
Of two breasts with silent rage and madness.
The love night became desolate
My blood was sailing in the Euphrates
O! Night! Violate a murmuring mound; I said, violate
The language of dawn and bloom
Do you see anything in the windows?
Do you see a woman whose mouth is mould
By kindness
And by a thimble's lung ?
Do I reach out my hand
Or do I cut off its fingers and have rest?
I am heavy with vagueness
My blood is a killing fox babbling now
About the wound
Babbling now about humiliation.