May it be subtle and unsettling first, on principals of culmination escalate your issues initially by small degrees. May your sense first fade, then, before they fail you. May spectres dart from your eyes by night, before the apparitions assail you. May whispers fly aloft upon the chilling breeze before the banshee berates you. May pleasure fade nor pain be that which elates you. May disturbance come before insanity.
May your friends plot ten betrayals for each selfish thought you had. May they steal your paramour, abduct your child. May your crops be ploughed with salt and choked with weeds. Be exiled! Seek shelter with charlatans and vagrants.
May your limbs atrophy, may you stoop and slither
In the fetid detritus ground from your oppressive boots
Let your neck be as weak as your spine, and fail to hold your bulbous head aloft from the filth
Upon this instance then, let the stench of your corruption suffocate you
Nay, live, and subsist and writhe in agony renewed for many ages hence
Or, perhaps a fate worse still. Perhaps I wish your vice to grow, your throat to parch, your gullet burn. Perhaps I wish the roles reverse, and that your greed would enslave you more than others. Let your skin itch, your fingers twitch, your eyes wither for blood. And naught corrode the iron tint but flood, a flood, a flood.
Perhaps I wish you slaver, like the dog you are, indeed the bestial befits you. Let stimuli pervade you, and make each day your first and last on the earth your vacant hide desecrates. Let starvation invade you, and all nuance of emotion you sustained be asphyxiated in a sea of ravenous entry.
Perhaps I wish even strength is your suffering
And all you lived for make a thrall of you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem