Smell of the beast in rut Poem by Karel van de Woestijne

Smell of the beast in rut; smell of the too-ripe fruit;
smell of the sea; smell of an earth without air;
- I am the late one; I am the bad one; I am the madman;
I am the sickly mass on which no hope will graze.

I am the last pear on the stripped and empty tree.
I am alone in the chill autumn, and I'm numb.
I am enforced need; I am forgotten goods;
I am the heaviest and ripest and no throat will I refresh.