Winter depression. English German version

…to what
to which new deeds
you call me?

i've trampled
the miracle
of
the
grail

beneath my goat-like feet…
my bones are wise
and not yet stale
the new blood
would i gratefully greet…

and yet…

and still…
the mondlicht
is too bright
and hot,
so scorching,
painf'lly
hot…

my eyes are jetzt
no more than gaping holes -
to my Inside…
so stinking, slimy, squeezing…
and yet
with purest beauty
of the carnal,
primar'ly carnal,
pristine teasing
thyne tortured eyes…

and still -
you do not see.
you kannst that not.

not yet…
apart i tear thee instead!
for you to feel the primal.
thy screams are not to bore my net
wov'n by a hand divinal…


despair and misanthropy - theirs,
and mine - still freezing gender.
she's panting, now she hears the stairs.

afraid. her fear is tender.
too tender just to touch the pause
with hands in blindness gloved.
in vain she kissed the poisonous rose -

without a word, it starved…


she scratched the icy marble floor,
she tore her lips apart.

the hollow walls seemed to ignore

her screams. she swung her heart.

and judged by sacrificial screams,
she never passed away.
without her vital sacred dreams…











…her essence went astray.

(3 февраля 2002, 18:20)