MOODS
I
ICROUCHED upon cushions and wallowed in their somnolent caresses,
And—listening with dread for the moment of my own silence
Rending the flimsy lace of whisperings—
My gnome dances before me
Behind a fan of smoke,
My dwarf squats on my shoulders
Tweeking their moulted wings,
My ape peers in the mirror of my face
Mimicking my soul's gaunt gestures—
My wolf bays through my moonly loneliness
Blotching the night with howls
My laughter goes whining away on the wind,
Laughs that are whipped by a soul too sick with merriment,
Too satiate with humour's emptiness! . . .
And—listening with dread for the moment of my own silence
Rending the flimsy lace of whisperings—
My gnome dances before me
Behind a fan of smoke,
My dwarf squats on my shoulders
Tweeking their moulted wings,
My ape peers in the mirror of my face
Mimicking my soul's gaunt gestures—
My wolf bays through my moonly loneliness
Blotching the night with howls
My laughter goes whining away on the wind,
Laughs that are whipped by a soul too sick with merriment,
Too satiate with humour's emptiness! . . .
II
Ah! loveliness with little pointed feet
Dancing across the leer of ugliness,
Skimming like a gold thread
Through a necklace of vile masks—
Lifting with lotus fingers
The blue arras of nightmare—
Loveliness like a delicate silver flute
Pressed to a negro's lips—
Dancing across the leer of ugliness,
Skimming like a gold thread
Through a necklace of vile masks—
Lifting with lotus fingers
The blue arras of nightmare—
Loveliness like a delicate silver flute
Pressed to a negro's lips—
III
Do you then wish for all those griefs
Whose snarling hands you kiss,
Kneeling in adoration to a dagger
Whose snarling hands you kiss,
Kneeling in adoration to a dagger
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