Not God With Wine, Nor Death, Nor

The Fallen Hazel-nuts, Stripped Late Of Their Green Sheaths, The Grapes, Red-purple, Their Berries Dripping With Wine, Pomegranates Already Broken, And Shrunken Fig, And Quinces Untouched, I Bring Thee As Offering.

Fall The Deep Curtains, Delicate The Weave, Fair The Thread.

For This Beauty, Beauty Without Strength, Chokes Out Life.

Every Concrete Object Has Abstract Value, Is Timeless In The Dream Parallel.

Could Beauty Be Beaten Out, O Youth The Cities Have Sent To Strike At Each Other's Strength, It Is You Who Have Kept Her Alight.