I feel good. Now
a stoic ice shines
in me.
It makes me laugh this ruby
rope
grinding in my body.
Rope without end,
like a
spiral
descending
from
evil...
bloody and left-handed rope
formed by
a thousand daggers in support.
So be it, may it braid
its rolls of funeral ribbons;
and may it tie the trembling cat
of Fear to the frozen nest,
to the final stove.
Now I’m serene,
with light.
And meowing in my Pacific,
a shipwrecked coffin.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.| Original: |
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1927. The author died in 1938, so this work is also in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 80 years or less. This work may also be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. |
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