我们太监的梦，在光明里没有种子，在光明和爱里，在内心的情绪里，捶打着男孩的四肢，在披巾和被单里盘腿，给黑暗的新娘梳洗，把黑夜的寡妇抱在怀里。姑娘们的影子，裹尸布散发着芬芳，当阳光消逝，从虫身上散开，男人的骨头，在床上破碎，被午夜的滑轮从坟墓里搬出来。在我们这个时代，枪手和他的情妇两个单维的幽灵，在卷轴上的爱情，在我们坚实的眼睛里是陌生的，当他们膨胀时，说着午夜的虚无;当摄像头关闭时，它们就会匆忙跑到院子里的洞里。他们在他们的臂弯和我们的头骨之间跳舞，强加他们的镜头，显示夜晚的离去;我们看着影子的表演，亲吻或杀戮，充满了赛璐珞的味道，给爱一个谎言。哪个是世界?我们两个沉睡的人，当治愈和他们的瘙痒唤醒这红眼的大地时，谁会醒来?收拾好白昼的形状和它们的脂粉，阳光灿烂的绅士们，威尔士的富人们，或者赶着黑夜前进。照片嫁给了眼睛，给它的新娘披上了片面的真理的外衣; The dream has sucked the sleeper of his faith That shrouded men might marrow as they fly. IV This is the world; the lying likeness of Our strips of stuff that tatter as we move Loving and being loth; The dream that kicks the buried from their sack And lets their trash be honoured as the quick. This is the world. Have faith. For we shall be a shouter like the cock, Blowing the old dead back; our shots shall smack The image from the plates; And we shall be fit fellows for a life, And who remains shall flower as they love, Praise to our faring hearts.