The 1900 Hours

From “The Last Land” A black season periled past into its own voice As she straightened herself up and said: "Takes me deeply, of fungus lover mine, Seeking me savagely by my last call! Do not have mercy of me!" But Spring said, "Do you know who I am?" The wind replied, "A self-tortured liaison Where the hunting of the day has begun with buffalos’ flesh behind the coldest sun!" Oh blissful dream! Let me not awake Among these hungry wavers! "Ce nest pas assez--guel dommage-- Mais je vous en prie," the Virgin said Laying on the bed, bleeding, laughing From the host moment of her last glorification. Should I have any particular conduct? With these three bodies, Absolutely perfect feeling the pain And the fat horn around their neck? Oh, alas so viel Freuden! While in an unfolded sky as your plenty momentum That reflects the unborn child, The numberless seeds as they started gaining themselves Through a richness vision and lustful smile, The explosion that my frenzied blood Made you behold it. And there, I am as the spring, Among the powerful wind; I give you The maximum doses to be mine, oh Virgin, The ladder imagination of my circus That's the beginning of a LFE beyond the land of dead.