enough of the virgins and lilies, of passionate,

suffocating perfume of corruption,

no more narcissus perfume, lily harlots, the blades

of sensation

piercing the flesh to blossom of death.

have done, have done with this shuddering,

delicious business

of thrilling ruin in the flesh, of pungent passion,

of rare, death-edged ecstasy.

give us our turn, give us a chance, let our hour

strike,

o soon, soon!

let the darkness turn violet with rich dawn.

let the darkness be warmed, warmed through to a

ruddy violet,

incipient purpling towards summer in the world

of the heart of man.

are the violets already here!

show me! i tremble so much to hear it, that even

now

on the threshold of spring, i fear i shall die.

show me the violets that are out.

oh, if it be true, and the living darkness of the

blood of man is purpling with violets,

if the violets are coming out from under the rack

of men, winter-rotten and fallen

we shall have spring.

pray not to die on this pisgah blossoming with

violets.

pray to live through.

if you catch a whiff of violets from the darkness of

the shadow of man

it will be spring in the world,

it will be spring in the world of the living;

wonderment organising itself, heralding itself with

the violets,

stirring of new seasons.

ah, do not let me die on the brink of such

anticipation!

worse, let me not deceive myself.

zennor

look!

we

have

come

through!

该作者的其它作品

《恋爱中的女人 women in love》

《儿子与情人 sons and lovers》

《the white peacock白孔雀》