You rise, sparkling of lips and dark ringed eyes!
I rise through your veins, like a wounded mongrel
that seeks the refuge of soft, tender sidewalks.
Love, you are a sin in this world!
My kiss is the scintillating tip of the horn
of the devil: my kiss that is a sacred creed!
Spirit is the horopter of the eye that passes—
pure in its blasphemy!
the heart that engenders the brain!—
that passes into yours, by way of my sad clay.
that exists in the calyx where your soul exists!
Some penitent sinister quiet?
Perhaps you hear it! Innocent flower!
...And know where there is no Ourfather,
Love is a sinning Christ!
César Vallejo, 1918
Translated by Rebecca Seiferle