Benjamin Fraser
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heir spirits beat upon mineLike the wings of a thousand butterflies.I closed my eyes and felt their spirits vibrating.I closed my eyes, yet I knew when their lashesFringed their cheeks from downcast eyes,And when they turned their heads;And when their garments clung to them,Or fell from them, in exquisite draperies.Their spirits watched my ecstasyWith wide looks of starry unconcern.Their spirits looked upon my torture;They drank it as it were the water of life;With reddened cheeks, brightened eyes,The rising flame of my soul made their spirits gilt,Like the wings of a butterfly drifting suddenly into sunlight.And they cried to me for life, life, life.But in taking life for myself,In seizing and crushing their souls,As a child crushes grapes and drinksFrom its palms the purple juice,I came to this wingless void,Where neither red, nor gold, nor wine,Nor the rhythm of life are known.
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