Lying wet, the object I saw In this red morning, on a bed made of stones. Legs in the air, like a nympho slut, Burning and sweating poisons Open, cynic and cut Her womb full of exhalations. The morning sun reflect On this putrid womb As the skies looked down the carcass The world gave back a strange choir; Chanting Satanas: Crawling in pestilence obscene The Burning dawn rises in my eyes Forms were erased and nothing but a dream, A slow outline to come on the forgotten womb, Only by a sight of memory survived Yet similar to this refuse, Crawling in a devotion obscene The Burning dawn rises in my eyes Swallowed in misery Cursed eternally O horrible infection, foul of my eyes, Vermin of nature, passion angels! Such you will be, ô worms of life, After thy last sacraments, mildewing among the bones