Long after the days and seasons, and the people and countries,
The flag of bleeding meat above the silk of seas and arctic flowers; (they do not exist.)
Delivered from the old fanfares of heroism – which still assail our hearts and heads – far from the former assassins.
– Oh! The flag of bleeding meat above the silk of seas and arctic flowers; (they do not exist.)
The infernos raining in the gusts of frost, – Sweetness! – the fires in the rain of the wind of diamonds flung out by the earth’s heart, charred eternally for us. – Oh world! –
(Far from the old retreats and the old flames, that we hear, that we feel,)
The infernos and the foams. Music, the spinning of gulfs and the smashing of icebergs against the stars.
Oh Sweetness, oh world, oh music! And there, the shapes, sweats, hair and eyes, floating. And the white, boiling tears, – oh sweetness! – and the female voice penetrating to the depths of the volcanoes and arctic caves.
Translated by Robert Yates