Beloved purity, that my eyes never

came to enjoy. Absurd purity!

I know that you were in the flesh one day,

when I was still spinning my embryo of life.

Purity in a neutral school skirt;

and the blue milk inside tender wheat

on a rainy afternoon, when the soul

while withdrawing has broken its dagger,

when an insolent stone has jelled in

who knows what empty test tube,

when there are content people; and when

blind eyelids cry in purple rims.

Oh, purity you never left me even

one message, on leaving the sad clay

nor one crumb of your voice; nor one nerve

of your heroic banquet of brilliant stars.

Get away from me, good evils,

sweet hot mouths …

I remember her when I see you, oh women!

For out of life in the perpetual afternoon,

so little was born, but so much is dying!