I am for those who believe in loose delights—I share
the midnight orgies of young men,
I dance with the dancers, and drink with the drinkers,
The echoes ring with our indecent calls,
I take for my love some prostitute—I pick out some
low person for my dearest friend,
He shall be lawless, rude, illiterate—he shall be one
condemned by others for deeds done;
I will play a part no longer—Why should I exile
myself from my companions?
O you shunned persons! I at least do not shun you,
I come forthwith in your midst—I will be your poet,
I will be more to you than to any of the rest.
9.
Once I passed through a populous city, imprinting
my brain, for future use, with its shows, architecture,
customs, and traditions;
Yet now, of all that city, I remember only a woman
I casually met there, who detained me for love
of me,
Day by day and night by night we were together,—
All else has long been forgotten by me,
I remember I say only that woman who passionately
clung to me,
Again we wander—we love—we separate again,
Again she holds me by the hand—I must not go!
I see her close beside me, with silent lips, sad and
tremulous.