Archive for the ‘Scraps’ Category

Translated by Jeffrey Dorchen

Don’t turn your heat down, the fire must start
Relight the pilot in my swollen heart
Torture of souls and souls’ delight
Goddess hear my hymn tonight
Torture of souls and souls’ delight
Goddess hear my hymn tonight
Phaedra is your name

Phaedra who spreads out through all of sound
Illuminate our cavern temple underground
Spark in us our dormant prayer
Bless this brazen bowl we bear
Spark in us our dormant prayer
Bless this brazen bowl we bear
Phaedra is your name

Pleasure queen of time and space
Wear for us the siren’s face
Made of flesh and velvet cloth
Or drench us in your heavy sloth
In the mystic, ghostly wine
Ghost expanding and divine
In the mystic, ghostly wine
Ghost expanding and divine
Phaedra is your name

[Original poem here.]


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Translated by Diana Slickman

Oh mama, I love your eyebrows;
They grow so black and thick.
O sweet mama, I love your eyebrows;
Girl, they always do the trick.
Those eyes dark as the grave
Make me want to misbehave with you.

Inky eyes, black as a raven,
Like your great long mess of hair,
Your wild eyes, black as a raven,
Say “lover, how would you care
To come up to my place
And see more than my face tonight?

Just follow the thought of your naughty mind;
What is hinted above, below is what you’ll find

I’ve got two big and heavy tits
On which two bronze medallions sit;
I’ve got two sweet heavy tits
Hanging down above my hips;
Keep going past my belly
What my eyebrows are tellin’ is there

You’ll find a big fleecy bush
The sister to my tresses
See my wild, black, wooly bush
Dark as a night that no star blesses.
It should be no surprise
Lover, would this face lie?

Just follow the thought of your naughty mind
What is hinted above, below is what you’ll find.
It should be no surprise
Lover, would this face lie?”

[Original poem here.]

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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.]

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As she squirmed like a snake on the barbecue
Her bustier squeezing her cleavage to view
From her mouth of strawberry red
With musky breathing, here’s what she said:

“My lips are steamy, and I know how to drown
ancient puzzles in my bed of down
my award-winning tits dry all tears with their jiggling
make old men laugh like babies giggling
And seeing my naked body their eyes
Behold the splendors of alien skies

“I’m so good at sex, you think you’re so wise
When I smother a lover between my thighs
And surrender my nipples for him to bite
I’m demure and horny, loose yet tight
Angels go weak in my bed of temptation
And barter their souls to eternal damnation”

The last drop of marrow she sucked from my bones
But when I turned to kiss her, I was alone
With a shriveled old wine sack dripping with pus
My doll now a skeleton thick with dust
Its jaw fell open and out came a whine
Like chains on a swinging hotel sign
That kind of a creaking, high and thin
Of a rusty old weather vane turned in the wind

–Translated by Jeffrey Dorchen

[Original poem here.]

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Any man who calls himself so
Has in his heart a yellow serpent
Installed as on a throne discontent
When man says “I want,” Snake says “No!”

Plunge into the eyes transfixed
Of Satyr or Nix
The snake says “Remember your duty!”

Plant a garden, have a brood
Polish verse or carve wood
Snake asks “is this your last night among beauty?”

Whether or not he pays the piper
Man does not pass a single morning
Without suffering the flickering warning
Of the unendurable viper!

[Original poem here.]

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