I played Nietze because you played
a harlot for a Machiavelli whom you
molded a hero bigger than himself;
You knew I was ever a non-believer.
Life is only a drama and the world is
a theater, and I your silent spectator.
(And) You decided to become a victim
of your own illusion caught between
your idea of what is a noble cause and
the ambition of men whose idealism has
become as hallow as their self-conceit.
My heart mourns now but soon it will
grow cold as your words are no more
meaningful to me (though they may
forever sound magic to the multitudes
bewitched by your seductive charm) .
And alone shall l journey into disillusion,
your magic powerless to captivate my
spirit unmoved by your rhetoric of hope;
And I could cut down the snakes from your
head for you have failed to turn me into
stone when your eyes gazed into my mine!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem