Vivir sin sentir sería un sinsentido.

Vivir sin sentir sería un sinsentido.
The flower that blooms last is the most rare and beautiful of all.

Sunday 21 December 2014

Metempsychosis.

He was waiting by my door,
Gear so rich, yet eyes so poor, 
Husky voice of saccharose, 
Sheath of hawkish waves of snows. 
And I asked him for his name,
Thus he blushed to me in shame,
Thence I told him what was mine,
And his eyeballs seemed to shine.
He evinced having a secret,
Coming from a distant land,
When I inquired for the country,
He just wept and held my hand.
«My mephitic pith is sinful, 
Perished, purulent, like me,
Though I wish you could remember,
My nomen — Mephisto Lee».

And Mephisto left my side,
Swiftly, briskly, like a ghost,
And I somehow felt a shiver,
As if endowed with a host.

And it was down at the graveyard,
When a small tomb made me stop,
For it had three letters carved on it,
And «Mephisto Lee» on top. 

Addah Monoceros.