Capitolo 17
Whoring the life that shivers to their lust.
Now sees the river of man; it has distant travelled
From that divine abhorrence, and you/he/she is done
One with the two principal demons, the Dark and Cold,
The faithful persons in love of humanity. Sees,
Wide you/he/she is now become, an abundant water,
An ample tide. And here, that oars are these?
To measure cantata and sweet that happy it rows,
With to the flags of bows lifted of flame,
Bravely frightening the obscurity to betray
Do the black embarassts flood sheared from the stems?
Sees, finally God for the uneasiness of man
Hath found excuses! Sees his/her wretchedness
Finally gilded with pleasant beauty to God!
An useless pain is anymore now the life of man;
To be floating on him, to enjoy him/it,
A state of barges goes, king's state.
They brings one day with them of a lot of lamps,
And as they stirs, on the black waters they paved
You hurt red, and green, and gilded, they shoots
Around them, the beautiful cruelty of light;
And they throws music on the river that plays.
I am also walking on the sea of man;
I look at the Your singing and Your lamps row trails;
And under me I feel the word of river,
The great blind water that complains him to him
For the pain you/he/she was done. But in Your happy ships
Silverly chained with luxury of the motive
Your senses lie, in a delicious gaol
Of the harmony, times of spell of sequence.
Or if you wake up again Your ears for the voice of the river,
You feel the bell to give birth water of prominence,
Trodden to the falsehood chatting from the keels
Of the happiness of king. And thing is to you,
When oddly the cloth of Your military harbor shivers
To feel the electrifying tide under of him grieving himself/herself/itself;
Or when its lumber drinks the humor of the river,
The mighty humor of the Desperation of man that works
How electric and thin blood through all the peels,
And it furnishes of point every heading with a glimmering candle
Blue turns pale and sparkling as a ghost? For You
It is too turned on to mark a corposant.
Neither the Your the old sense of smell of the brook of unhealthful,