Translated by Ingsel
He is a wild animal within the wall,
A formless being hidden between rays of light,
Like a great bear slyly hurling stones towards the sun.
Writhing insects and ants in the dark shadows.
He is a madman.
And so he is poet.
Everyone can see his heart and lungs through his ribcage,
And in turn he can see their forsaken dreams and loves.
He is a swan swimming in the sky.
With a flap of his wings,
The red moon is saturated with black blood.
All the babes thrown away with the refuse by their bitch mothers, cry out once more.
He plays the piano among the clouds and rain,
Igniting red flames in the cold water.
He waves the the sword of love in all corners,
Cutting the cotton garments of beauties under the cover of night.
You've locked the gate of your high castle walls,
But no matter how one fortifies themselves,
Like a zombie residing in the ceilings of one's abode,
When you suffer from aging,
You will reek of unbearable rot.
Today he fooled a drunk and led him to a remote place,
All the numbers in the drunk's stomach bled out like intestines.
June 1st, 2012