Platoon leader

My mouth shall have Gehenna’s ardors

My mouth shall be to thee a hell of sweetness and invitation

The angels of my mouth shall be enthroned in thy heart

The soldiers of my mouth shall take thee by storm

The priests of my mouth shall incense thy beauty

Thy soul shall be shaken as a region in an earthquake

Thine eyes shall be laden with all of love amassed in the

glances of humanity from the beginning

My mouth shall be an army against thee a ragtag army

Varied as an enchanter who varies his metamorphoses

The orchestra and choruses of my mouth shall tell thee my

love

It shall murmur it afar

Whilst eyes fixed upon my watch I await the prescribed minute

for assault

Guillaume Apollinaire