shot to be silenced.

A lacrymal tincture washes
     The cabbage-green skies:
Under the drooling tree with tender shoots,
     Your raincoats
White with special moons
     With round eyes
Knock together your kneecaps
     My ugly ones!
We loved one another at that time,
     Blue ugly one!
We ate soft boiled eggs
     And chickweed!
One evening you consecrated me poet,
     Blond ugly one:
Come down here, that I can whip you
     On my lap;
I vomited your brilliantine,
     Black ugly one;
You would cut off my mandolin
     On the edge of my brow
Bah! my dried saliva,
     Red-headed ugly one
Still infects the trenches
     Of your round breast!
O my little lovers,
     How I hate you!
Plaster with painful blisters
     Your ugly tits!
Trample on my old pots
     Of sentiment;
—Up now! be ballerinas for me
     For one moment!…
Your shoulder blades are out of joint,
     O my loves!
A star on your limping backs,
     Turn with your turns!
And yet it is for these mutton shoulders
     That I have made rhymes!
I would like to break your hips
     For having loved!
Insipid pile of stars that have failed,
     Fill the corners!
—You will collapse in God, saddled
     With ignoble cares!
Under special moons
     With round eyes,
Knock together your kneecaps,
     My ugly ones!