the great complaint of my obscurity one

cold eddy blood zigzag

i am without soul cascade without friends and without

talents lord

i don’t receive my mother’s letters regularly

which must pass through russia through norway and

through england memories in red spirals burn the mind

on the steps of the amphitheater

and like a luminous advert of my soul, misfortune sprung

from the sphere

tower of light the fecund wheel of blue ants

halo dryness shrill with sorrows

come close to me so the prayer doesn’t bother you it

descends into the earth like diving suits to be invented

then the iron darkness into wine and salt shall change

simplicity lightning rod of our plants take care

the lightning rods that gather in a grapnel

so i become the crown of an enormous christ

land without form voltaic arc

eagles of snow shall come to nourish the rock

when the deep clay shall change into milk

and the milk shall trouble the night the chains shall ring

the rain shall compose chains

heavy ones

shall form in space wheels rays

the scepter in the middle among the branches

the old newspapers the tapestries a paralytic

halo dryness

fecund wheel of blue ants lord finger of gold furnace

sphinxery

why throttle it why

after love at first sight the military march shall break out

my despair a tinned iron tube but why why then?

thus thus always but the way

you must be my rain my darkness my metal my circuit my

pharmacy nu mai plânge nu mai plânge will you

Tristan Tzara