In the primitive forests
Where vineyards were born
Among sins of god
And in purities of man.
Adam bowed his head
His loins aroused
Before the beastly aesthetics.
Eve, she untied the knots of purities
Became wet in the white,
And flowed in the white, white flows.
Poor God!
He was shocked in his ideas of sin.
Drink thou, Adam, Drink!
I shower my curse upon you to drink.
How much better is Satan
Than thou?
He was ready to unfold his truth!
And thou, Man!
Betrayed me
Sowed seeds of jealousy in Me!
And created the sources of lust in Me!
They were grapes in the vineyards
The little globes sunk in the sweets of rainbow
That I had reserved for Me!
And that Angels had stood sentinel!
When she led thou to them
Me that lost me
Was neither Satan nor Man
Me became a poet
That gulped wine in secret alleys and lanes!
Poet and God are synonyms
They swim secretly in the deluges of Love
When drowned
Unseen by any one
Blunt heavy masses
Sinking, sinking deeply into the fathoms
Beyond the four walls of loneliness
In the noises of crowds
When Man and Satan flow hand in hand
Afraid and Happy
Poet and God hide
Pretending none sees them!
Chalice in one hand
And smoke pipes in lips.
A silent mourn crept on their
lips:
Man, Oh! Man, have you forsaken Me?
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