O Jesus! In our hours of pain and cold
And uncertain star it's hard to please the vulgar
As the variable seeds by the mountain height your body as it is trembling
With innocent madness; when pain and anguish like wire do tricks
Of colder snake but a paramount angel will grow within you.
Yet I witness the bloody eagles
Over you as they were eating the flesh heart off you,
Smelling your warm blood from your feet up
And hands, while you were calling your father’s name, and then I sprung.
I drink the poisonous wine and I eat the bread with ants.
I dream no more. Reality kills me and what I leave behind and it still,
And what it must I have taken it and I will take my child’s arms in pain; a tear
Which I freeze it to the foreseen world.
I cannot blame any barbarians nor the king or emperor;
All of them should pay. One way or another as seal road will rise.
I should be there, and I should be served you as a monster angel
Or a humble old man before you.
I do feel my rage; in cold and in the deep sea, while I am deflowering
This lovely rose from the virginal pond, and I fear it, and you should
Because there will be no more time for which I rise
Against those who will dare to doubt.