I am this stranger with lips
blackened and burned, like sugar-melted absinthia,
trapped in a charnel house,
a haunted mausoleum.
Morpheus is laughing.
Can you hear him?
Erebus is looming.
Can you see him?
Blackbirds, omens,
the end of all draws nigh.
Listen to these words:
your souls are dark as night.
your souls are black as hell.
Satan’s teeth glimmer—
he’s waiting for you,
he’s waiting to drag you down.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem