Capitolo 46
They has hung pale roses in their hair,
Each of them like her lie from
Equal to the blood with a tightened eye.
Sees how the red wing winds him round,
See how the white youth fights in vain!
The arm weak they twist him in an unfathomable pain;
He twists him in the wings of red and soft veiny,
But still she whispers on him and it grabs on. . . .
This is the secret party of love,
You look well, it looks well, before it dies,
Sees how the red tremors above,
See how I calm the white lies! . . . .
You leave without breath through the trees. . . .and a voice is heard
Singing far street. The dead leaves fall. . . .
'Waters give clear where once I died,
Of bright calm evening with stars,
One among innumerable avatars,
I married a deadly a deadly bride,,
And it placed on the stones and it gave my meat,
It is digitò his hunger that I have loved.
As I ever escape this sweater
Or is it from the body of my removed person in love?'
Dead brook of leaves through the air that expedites
And the maenadses dance with hair volatori.
* * * * *
The priests with clogs, the persons in love with horns,
Rises in the light of the stars, one to the time,
They draws their knives on the throats that squirt,
They dirties the column with blood of goats,
They bathes the blood on hair and lips
And it waits for as stones the eclipse of the moon.
They is standing as stones and they fix the sky
Where the moon peers at down as a half shut eye. . .
In the clear one of green moon their anchor they are standing
While wind flows on the darkened sand
And he/she broods on the soft forgotten things
That filled their shady yesterdays. . . .
Where are the breasts, the scarlet wings? . . . .
They looks fixed to each other with shaken fixed look. . . .
And then, as the shade closes the moon,
Cries, and strikes with their clogs the earth,
And it dresses again wicker through the dark, and he/she fills the night
With a slowly dying clamor of sound.
There, where the great walls crowd the stars,
There, from the black wind-riven the walls,
In a grove of pruned trees and blames. . . .