YOUR DESTINY, SLAVE

 

***
Torture, torment
bread, wine, the tragic
flowing, quaternary mornings
your destiny, trembling slave,
snoring, bringing to light
your organic sufferings
marking your step,
your soul feels ashamed
prostrates himself seeing you—
all this and the rest
are your summary, slave,
even the past is minced
the rocks will not know
how to speak of you, casting down
sparks of sulphur. Oblivion
folds her flight through all
that perishes, carried away
in a rocking motion.