I Shed More Tears Than God Could

He Would Say, "how Funny It Will All Seem, All You've Gone Through, When I'm Not Here Anymore, When You No Longer Feel My Arms Around Your Shoulders, Nor My Heart Beneath You, Nor This Mouth On Your Eyes, Because I Will Have To Go Away Some Day, Far Away..." And In That Instant I Could Feel Myself With Him Gone, Dizzy With Fear, Sinking Down Into The Most Horrible Blackness: Into Death.

The Poet Makes Himself A Voyant Through A Long, Immense Reasoned Deranging Of All His Senses. All The Forms Of Love, Of Suffering, Of Madness; He Tries To Find Himself, He Exhausts In Himself All The Poisons, To Keep Only Their Quintessences.

A Thousand Dreams Within Me Softly Burn: From Time To Time My Heart Is Like Some Oak Whose Blood Runs Golden Where A Branch Is Torn.

Is It In These Bottomless Nights That You Sleep In Exile?

O Witches, O Misery, O Hate, To You Has My Treasure Been Entrusted! I Contrived To Purge My Mind Of All Human Hope. On All Joy, To Strangle It, I Pounced With The Strength Of A Wild Beast. I Called To The Plagues To Smother Me In Blood, In Sand, Misfortune Was My God.