What do I care if you be wise?
Be lovely! and be sad! For tears
Are as appealing on the face
As rivers in the countryside;
Flowers are freshened by the storm.
I love you most of all when joy
Escapes from your defeated brow;
Or when a horror drowns your heart;
When on your present day, a cloud
Out of the past deploys itself.
I love you when your great eye pours
A water warm as any blood;
When, under my consoling hand,
Your piercing anguish finds a voice -
The rattle of a dying throat.
I breathe, a luxury divine!
Profound, delicious hymn to me!
All of the sobbing of your breast,
And I believe your heart will glow
With pearls your eyes have cast away!
I know your heart, that overflows
With all of your uprooted loves,
Flames always like a forge, and that
Beneath your breast you incubate
Some of the smugness of the damned;
But dear, as long as dreams of yours
Will not reflect the flames of Hell -
As long as in a nightmare's grip,
Dreaming of poisons, slashing blades,
In love with powder, cannon shot,
Dreading to answer any door,
Tormented by the tolling clock,
You will not suffer the embrace
Of irresistible Disgust -
You may not, oh my slave and queen
Who loves me only out of fear,
Horrified, in the fevered night,
With screaming soul proclaim to me:
'I am your equal, 0 my King!'
Přeložil James McGowan