With your look of offended beast, and your bandage where there is no wound, with your sighs of martyred mother, you will scare away your last hope. How sad it makes me, little one, to see you neglect that body of yours, very smart, you poor fool, to devote your life to the eternal dissection of a small sin. No necesito amar, no necesito. Even if my life is full of shadows, I don't need to love, I don't need to. I understand that love is pain and that pain of love is infinite.
All repetition is offensive, and all supresion is forgetting.
Disdainful, like the gods, I'll keep fighting for my destiny, without listening to the frightened voices of those whom death has poisoned. The Virgin is combing her hair between two curtains her hair is made of gold and the combs of fine silver But look how they drink, the fish in the river, look how they drink, from seeing the newborn God. They drink and drink and they drink again, the fish in the water, from seing God being born. The birds are singing and the rosemary is blooming. Little bird you woke me teach me to live.