The highest points craterized, the points
of love, of capital being, I drink, I fast, I ab-
sorb heroin for the sorrow, for the languid
throb and against all correction.
Can I say that they've betrayed us? No.
That all were good? Neither. But
good will exist there, no doubt,
and above all, being so.
And so what who loves himself so! I seek myself
in my own design which was to be a work
of mine, in vain: nothing managed to be free.
And yet, who pushes me.
I bet I don't dare shut the fifth window.
And the role of loving oneself and persisting, close to the
hours and to what is undue.
And this and that.
Translation by Clayton Eshleman