My heart with desire tense, I knew: naught
But this blue eve of bloody stars, of wounds
Raw—the sighs of one who is oft distraught—
Could this, my manic body, maroon
Where brave souls go to find the bliss they sought;
O, the night grew long, the pain deeper still!
Dark dreams besieged me; by love besotted,
Terror filled, I refused the putrid pill
That leaves one half-asleep and half-awake


Like a foaming wave in erotic wait;
What release is there for me? For whose sake
Do I pursue the solemn poet’s fate?
Is it for me or for you, dear Muse,
That again your lithe lips to kiss I choose?