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Horrible night of
sleeplessness!
—Without the blessed presence
Of your dear body near me,
Without your lips so often kissed,
Although cunning I wist
In all insincerity,
Without your lips all lies,
But when I think if them, so blithe,
And knowing how to console me
Under the aspect and under the mien
Of strawberries—and, good scene!—
Of a quite plausible parley,
And above all without the
pentacle
Of your senses and the miracle
Manifold and single, flower and fruit,
Of your hard witching eyes,
Hard and gentle after your wise...
True God! terrible night!
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