The Earth was turned into a pile of ashes.
In garments of penitence
I sit on it in a light mood and dream.
Oh my ecstatic dreams!
I am strong,
for I have arisen from the marble bed of death.
Death – I looked into your face, I held you at bay.
Death – your hugs aren’t cold, I myself am fire.
Who is God? What has he done to us?
Do not jest! He is near.
– – – – – – – –
From silver cups I pour on the Earth a lust
which makes the dreams of Aphrodite fade.