Translated by Martha Bayne
By the pale light of languid lamps, on cushions drenched with strong perfume,
Hippolyte dreamed of strokes so strong, they could lift the veil of June.
But looking back, she faltered; she didn’t understand. Where once the sky shone blue and clear now clouds loomed far from land.
Lost in lust’s defenseless stupor, she wept, hot, tired, and tearful.
Her vanquished limbs disarmed, flung wide, she is fragile and so beautiful.
Fragile and so beautiful.
Stretched at her feet, calm and joyous, Delphine watched with eyes aflame
An animal playing with her prey, after marking it as slain.
Strong beauty on her knees, victorious before the weak,
She pulled her body close and long, seeking kisses soft and sweet.
But where was the silent pulse of pleasure? The thanks rising from a fluttered lash?
She searched her victim’s pallid eye, but found little joy, no flash.
“Hippolyte, my love, what are you thinking? Don’t you get what all this is about? You don’t have to give some jerk your flower – he will only snuff it out.”
“My kisses are like fireflies that caress the lake at dusk.
And your boyfriend? His love will pass, while he batters your body with his tusk.
“Turn to me my love – my all and my better half! Show me your starry eyes.
One look and I’ll draw you down to sleep, in the endless dream of pleasure’s thighs.”
“I regret nothing, my sweet Delphine.” Hippolyte lifted her head.
But I suffer, uneasy; like after a midnight meal of bread.
“Something heavy moves within me; dark phantoms — I cannot lie! They drive me down a strange road, where the ground shifts beneath a bleeding sky.
“Have we done something wrong? Tell me! I don’t understand this fright.
You call me your angel, I tremble with fear – and then my lips still seek your light.
“Don’t look at me like that! My sister, my elation.
I’ll love you forever but you must know, our joy is the spark for my damnation.”
And Delphine shook her mane and stamped her feet, and trembled for a spell.
Then “In the face of love,” she spat, “How dare you speak of hell!”
“It’s a stupid game – I curse it – to marry honesty to love.
A solution to a pointless problem, one dreamed up by fools above.
“If you seek some magic union of shadow and of heat.
You’ll never warm your frozen body in the red-hot sun of love’s defeat.
“Go back to your boyfriend! Seek some stupid bridegroom, and leave me to my disaster.
You’ll be sorry, you’ll be back. You can only serve one master.”
And Hippolyte, just a child, cried out: “I am torn apart!
The chasm you have opened is a hole inside my heart!
“Now the monster is awakened, he screams with thirst and rage.
I think nothing will calm his fury – not even burning sage.
“He will never be quiet, and I’m so tired my love. Draw the curtains and shut out the rest.
Onto your chest I will sink my head, and die with the cool of the grave upon your breast.”
Down, down, down, victims
Walk the path to hell.
A suffering wind shall whip you
For your crimes eternal.
Burn, burn, burn you whores,
Descend into the fires.
Pleasure you won’t feel again,
Just the parched desire.
Dark, dark, dark you see,
No light shall pierce the black.
Only gaslit fever dreams,
A stench your body attacks.
Dry, dry, dry your skin,
Joy has left you mad.
Thirsty, limp, and tempest tossed,
Your body shakes; it’s sad.
Lost, lost, lost you girls,
Wolves the desert skirt.
Disordered souls, your fate awaits,
You who flee from god to flirt.
[Original poem here.]
Leave a comment