Batter my heart, three person'd God, for you vent all your coward's wrath; my brow is bent beneath a heavy rod.
Bid me to live, and I will live.
Call down the hawk from the air, call me away: there's nothing here.
The heart asks pleasure first, my boy; you may take it from me, a battered swordsman, slashed and scarred.
Fain would I wish what my heart cannot will: that I should live and look with open eyes.
These words the poet heard in Paradise: vertiginosus, inops, surdus, male gratus amicis.
Knew'st thou one month would take thy life away?
Had we but met in other days; had I a cave on some wild, distant shore…
Beyond the wall the passion flower is blooming, Venus by Adonis' side, raving winds around Her blowing,
A Being, a Form, an Idea Having fallen from out of the blue,
Vast oceanic movements, the flux and reflux of immeasurable tides,
Bientôt nous plongerons dans les froides ténèbres.
Vertue, alas, now let me take some rest;
Good-bye - yes, I am going.
Bid adieu, adieu, adieu.
Iron Noder 2013, 19/30