XLVI.
The Dawn
Whenever
burnished dawn passes through the sluices
Clarifying
debauchery, by a strange and vengeful process
Ideals
upheld by society also prowl
And
the brutal vertigo induced by the angels awakes.
From
this phenomenon the inaccessible azure
Can
terrace a man who dreams and so is prone to suffer,
For
his sport lies in reaching deep into the abyss.
And
so, dear Goddess, lucid and pure,
On
the smoking debris of such senseless orgies
Your
memory becomes clearer, rosier and more charming,
At
least to the fevered vision of one who is spiralling.
To
such a setting the sun nourishes the morning lamps,
And
so, always the vanquisher, your phantom appears
Resplendent
and like dark matter unbounded.
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