Bright star! I would like to be as beautiful as you are —
Not throwing on the world the ghostly sight of a whore
As I am, sighing, with my lips wet and sunny
Like night’s inhabitant, a ghastly beach flea.
The moving skies at their insensitive task
Have poured on me the drops of your luminous mask.
Oh beautiful light, reverberated in the hands of the dusk!
Bright star! If I could have a bit of your radiance,
Not sleep upon the violent breast of my many lovers,
To feel the purity of your glance forever,
Awake in the fever of our astral romance,
Having rendezvous with the empty-feeling death
Under your illuminating dress – and then stop to breathe.