I am the vampire of my own heart
I will strike you without anger
And without hatred, like a butcher,
Like Moses the rock!
And I will force from your eyes,
To water my Sahara,
The waters of suffering.
My desire, swollen with hope,
Will swim upon your salted tears
Like a ship taking to the open sea,
And in my heart, which they intoxicate,
Your dear sobs will echo
Like a drum sounding the charge!
Am I not a false note
In the divine harmony,
Thanks to the voracious Irony
That shakes me and bites me?
She is in my voice, the shrew!
All of my blood is made of this black poison!
I am the sinister mirror
In which the Fury gazes at herself.
I am the wound and the knife!
I am the slap and the cheek!
I am the limbs and the rack,
And the victim and the executioner!
I am the vampire of my own heart,
— One of the great abandoned,
Condemned to eternal laughter,
And who can no longer smile!