Goldola of the Dead
(text)
Just as beneath the inverted sky
we saw black with ink the river
of the dead with a famous
scorpion apt
to bite its own tall
on whose tip a bust Is flying
Saw furthermore those souls
certain to become
by the privilege of tanning
sisters of don Giovanni at the poop
Lord Byron and Wagner standing
and all their beautiful dead women
chins on diamonds nostrils
palpitrating eyes
struck to velvet
by your fist Eros and the slap
of innumerable pigeons. walking
hands to backs on the marble
to and fro and suddenly
in a storm of silk
rejoin the apteria sheltering
on the cornices
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
beautiful Adriatic women
Venus come from the mother-of-pearl
Will she go place on your fingers
(the seaweeds of sleep)
Doge, your deep ring?
Translated by Tony Montague
Page(s) 29
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