The large dress of María Antonieta
- a Jamaican whore disguised as a White, almost pink -
was undoubtedly made by Amelia the extraordinary one
The background of the scenery
looks like a shipwreck of stars
The queen and her pair of blue mulattoes
extend their red tongues toward the customers
These muscular negresses
with high red whigs, large red nails, red loinclothes . . .
are potent healthy ferocious vigorous
and brazenly whorish

María Antonieta's dress is a magnificent stained-glass window
a negro church more beautiful than heaven

This place is shock-full - like the unconscious -
with brutal full voracious creatures . . .
Everything is an orgy
They dance a historic - even biblical - scene
but blasphemous and timeless
Negroes, spirits, sorcerers
madmen, monsters . . .
Desire has as much strength as hell
its appetite is powerful
the body's hunger is joyful
perverse, magic like a dance
red with a white moon
Life here goes on beyond - or closer than - thought
Each idea bites, with pleasure
Healthy teeth before a nocturnal apple

- inside each fruit there is a star

Life is cruel, implacable sap
a constellation
of inexplicable creatures singing in my senses
like the colors, like water from the night
sky, of bodies, of air . . .

A seaman on land, grotesque caricature
- as grotesque and brutal as any of us -
wrapped in a Van Gogh sky
drawing with his hands thoughts
of his solitary argot
false personal perishable
and beautiful, as also is the sea

and the seaman, maybe an imbecile
a man that has seen the tempests
that maddened with light William Turner
Her face her eyes - with the same small candles of the sky -
the bestial inebriated brutish features
delirious with hunger
Her drunkenness deceives and sings on her shoulders
where the devil and the flight
of seagulls have glittered
grotesque puppet of blood and complexes
bitten by the sleep
of the immensities, of the great skies,
of lustful landscapes
of brothels, of all the ports of the winds,
the sea and that pack of miseries
that speaks in all languages . . .

Dazzling and chaotic street murals
of libido like an exacerbated light
sexuality flowing in a gush, in bellows,
impudent, vulgar
a whorehouse ritual - half bastard half mythical -
stamped on the flesh of the port
like a tattoo
Life leaves marks

It is no longer a matter of incandescent youth
of the health of the soul
the clear look of vivacious innocence - as Manuel says
Now is the scandal of her life
The desires birds of prey fix their eyes on pleasure
A mature energy flows over
flaunts her arms her indecency her loving cruelty
Not sweetness or kindness today the man is
an animal full of life
carnal overcharged brazen . . .

Something so insatiable and powerful as tenderness
without the light of serenity.
A magnificent torment a delicious danger
a controlled force that increases
the flow of the blood the song of the abysses
For a moment her body is a magnificent
and soulless spectacle:
the brutal fire of Creation burning

But María Antonieta does not invite evil to her house
she has replaced it by play and she smiles

Never has death been so despised

Translation: 2005, Nicolás Suescún