I bring you the child of a night in Edom!

Black, with bleeding wing, and pale, featherless

Through the burned glass of herbs and of gold

Through the frosty panes, alas, still dreary

The dawn pounces on the angelic lamp

Palms! And when it displayed this relic

To that father trying out a hostile smile

The blue and barren solitude shuddered

O nurse with your daughter and the innocence

Of your cold feet, welcome a horrible birth

And your voice, reminiscent of the viol and clavecin

With your withered finger you will press the breast

From which the woman in oracular whiteness pours

For the lips that the virgin blue air starves

05/04/2008