Classic Poem

A lost dog is shivering in desperate Moon ...
Oh! why sob when no beat?
And nights! that everywhere the same soul! Is it a
Who barks at Exile and a lost dog?

No, no; not a stone that dream a household
Not a night that cry: still today!
I, who do not froth at the bars of his cage
And peels his days filaments boredom.

And good plant! fossils that lie
In Pliocene tuffs skeletons outcasts,
The spring sprayed by kirghyses steppes,
Roses in the foothills of the Himalayas!

And the wind bellows, apocalyptic Beast
Falling on roofs with rotten people,
Shaking in vain their camera, and then stops,
Crying on his heart to Seven Swords of misunderstood.

Everything comes from a single categorical imperative,
But he has a long arm, and the matrix away!
Love, love that dream ascetise and fornicate;
Who do we love for us in our little corner?

Infinity, where do you go? Why our great sense
Are they crazy beyond keyboards granted,
They believe to happier that the Word mirrors,
And kill? Infinity, shows a bit your papers!

Decorative and not intended History,
No happiness for all, but coquettish ways
Objectifying us substrata without tips,
Trinity Molochs, the True, the Beautiful, the Good.

Cloud profiles kains! autumn winds
Which in antiquity Pans supposedly gays,
You lamentiez roofs heptagons temples,
See, we rebrodons the same Anankes.

Once the purple gloves Reverend
Theology councils in cities,
And the Bishop of Hippo harnessing its victims
The chariot of Juggernaut ecumenicity;

Today microscope telescope! Again,
We are reviving the warhead to Him always,
There running jacket at nine that there regilds
To pick us rocking a spring our boredom.

A cool place to ear fevers,
An unpublished mirage around the corner,
The craziest crawls towards happiness lips,
And opiums longer dreaming. But tomorrow?

Again yet? Ah! let go of locks,
In the end! Forget it! We need to convey
To the skies, where love and grazing are the Muses,
Cuver will Penate god homes!

O! immediate Eden brave empiricisms!
Combing her hair with pride the edge of
Raw fish that he offered in a paroxysm
Dedication! love without oaths or discounts.

Yes, pure living habits and programs
Paccageant my community, through and wrongly
Like petting a beautiful cat my dear soul,
Not arrive intoxicated-died myself to death!

Yes, beyond our arts, beyond our times
And our heredity, your candor Islands,
Unconsciousness! and the threshold there, who mocks
My eyes back, and is: do not be afraid.

No, I have no fear; I rechois childhood;
My flower boat is ready, I want to dream
The shadow of your mother protuberances
In offering you my mirror et cetera ....