I died. Aeolus tugged and blown
At trees and shutters with his heat.
I walked on down the dusty street
Fauns walked beside me. In each faun,
I made out Pan. I contemplated:
“This must be heaven, I have made it...”
From sunlight hiding, shinning softly
with russet armpits, standing bare,
a girl was looking from the doorway,
with water-lilies in her hair.
She stood so slender, and so free,
her nipples-- rosy, -- I recalled
one day in spring, when I, enthralled,
sat, hidden by an alder-tree,
and watched in silence, closely prying,
the town miller’s younger daughter,
as she emerged out of the water,--
between her legs, a beard was drying.
And now, in yesterday’s attire,
which I had worn when I was killed,
I, with a playboy’s lustful smile,
approached my Lilith with a thrill.
Across the shoulder, with a distant
green eye she gazed, -- at once, on me,
the cloak caught fire, -- in an instant
it turned to ash. And I could see,
not far away, a Greek divan stood,
and tables full of wine and food,
and then a wall, with paint splattered.
With two cold fingers, lacking shame,
the child took me by the flame:
“Come over here,” – she softly uttered.
Without effort or compulsion,
but slowly, to extend delight
she spread, like wings, in just one motion
her knees right there before my sight.
With those seductive shinning eyes!
she seemed so cheerful and so ardent,
when with a frenzied bang of thighs
I broke into the unforgotten.
Our vessels locked. Together linked,
inside of her, I started sliding
already, in a growing sting,
such wondrous bliss began alighting,--
and suddenly she pushed away,
ran back, and closed her legs in haste,
picked up some veil on the way
and put it up around her waist
and full of strength, stuck in-between--
so close to pleasure,-- I, dismaying,
rushed toward her, and started swaying
from heated winds. “Oh, let me in,”—
I yelled to her and grew aware
that I was on the street once more
and nasty, bleating children there
were staring at my mace in awe.
“Oh, let me in,” -- goat-legged mass
would gather ‘round me. “At last,
or I’ll go crazy!” I still yelled.
The door was silent. And I, grieving,
before the public, spilled my semen
and understood, that this was hell.