The sun of shame
A transparent secret
And inside - hellfire rays
My red hands strangle you
And my lips are white
I love you to death
The sun of shame
You choke from my white lips
And inside - hellfire - secret.
[+ Catullus poem 52:]
Quid est, Catulle? Quid moraris emori?
Sella in curuli struma Nonius sedet,
Per consulatum peierat Vatinius:
Quid est, Catulle? Quid moraris emori?
