Two men were dragging a cart through the woods,
through the mud of light-shy avenues,
in the service of a woman. Dividing and
conquering, she stood, both burden and desire

naked above them, whip in hand
arrogantly - possessed by no man
unless by the sacrifice of a split
existence. I was one; the other, a servant

of the night who drove his fear through me.
Together we pulled, the duke in front
- he knew the forest in all its moods.
The woman saw the difference. Cracked.

Translated by Desmond Egan