Из альбома: Diotima
The silence already funereal spreads a pall
His lips not drinking there or baiting breath
Its muzzle all aflame with savage howls
Idol of Anubis
Aflame…
In the fluttering veil that girds her absence round
We breathe in always, thought it brings us to death
His century appalled at never having heard
That in this voice triumphant death had sung its hymn
As to himself at last
eterrnity changes him
the poet reawakens
They, like a writhing Hydra
bestow a purer sense
Calm block fallen here from obscure disaster
Mark the boundaries evermore
To the dark flighs of blasphemy hurled to the future