When off I went
One winter day, by noon
The clapping bark of the old oaks
Cried „Wolf, don’t leave us!”
Soon, their sound was bent
And crawling lamely in the dust.
I bit my lips, where in the spring
I had scorched them on my lover’s breast
I cut my shoulder, where her scent
Was still upon my growling chest.
And as a bleeding, hunting fiend
I did not rest nor watch the lands
As by me, in a rage, they passed –
A mile upon another throwing
Between my trail of frozen hunger
And her nine lives of lustful cunt.
Like thunder through the burning flesh
Without a pause, or turning gaze –
I swept the virgin plains apart
As snow came down
And blazed my path, to be no more.