1

The pain intoxicates you like wine,
You flow into immeasurable caves,
Where naked bodies wildly coil
And Satan's pitchfork
Skewers your chest.

Who is the stranger with the stony forehead?
What fresh depressions haunt
His lost-angel face
And his smile, - a mask-?
What passed through him
While I was sleeping
With my breath heavy,
Prolonged?

26

My heart sometimes explodes
A noisily smashed urn
        from which
Thousands of drops, colored garlands, gush.
Arcs unfurl, glide into emptiness,
A starry array of hearts,
Faultless, shining.
The void fills itself, disappears
Under my infinite heart
Which in flight stabs the absence
With golden, stellar rays.

3

We sit on the stony edge of the world,
Half asleep,
        half aware,
Sensing, Seeing,
Flood waves,
Gaping earth,
Mortars,
The End
Nearing us.

Jesus, pierced
        on His cross,
Presses longing lips to us
And waits.

34

I find myself always warm
In the laps of pine trees, ruffled, green,
Even when winter with its elongated fingers,
Descends forcefully from the clouds,
The tears of Saint Anthony
Weep unbroken on the drained faces,
And the world trembles
        from its foundation.

Away from fear I roll and fall asleep
In nests of pine trees, sweetly scented,
Soft shadows enwrap me with much care
In the warmth of a mother,
In the warmth of a brother,
In the misty warmth
Of a lover.

And Now The World...

Beyond the void made of frigid marble
Where I live without bridges,
Without clothing,
An entire world waits with patience.
Lithe paths emerge under extended palms;
Astonished windows open
        toward the sun,
Flocks of birds follow me wherever I go
In a hanging, singing,
Train.