In twilight born More than nocturne of day In predawn depths discern'd Your burning shape Luminous beneath a fevered moon What serpent grace defines The Line, the Cross and the Curve? So without a wall, some in misery To nihil bend in pompous form Durblind to the promise The fullness of the void Do only maenads know How much fat to be sucked From the earth of Utopia? So wisdom warps, so wisdom weaves In penumbral gloom In ash and bloom In carnal blasphemy Entangled violently In this, infernally A beast for thee