Meine Stimme verhallt ... Giacomo Joyce 41
Meine Stimme verhallt in den nur noch sich selbst hörenden Worten, verhallt wie die faden Weisheiten des Ewigen, die ihm, Abraham, nachstellten im Echo der Hügel. Denn sie lehnt sich zurück in die Kissen an der Wand: odaliskengleich im schwelgenden Dunkel. Ihre Augen tranken meine Gedanken: und in die feuchte warme willige komm! heischende Dunkelheit ihres Frauseins vergoß und verströmte und flutete meine selber zerfließende Seele ihren schier uferlosen Samen...... Nehme sie nun wer will!....
My voice, dying in the echoes of its words, dies like the wisdom-wearied voice of the Eternal calling on Abraham through echoing hills. She leans back against the pillowed wall: odalisque-featured in the luxurious obscurity. Her eyes have drunk my thoughts: and into the moist warm yielding welcoming darkness of her womanhood my soul, itself dissolving, has streamed and poured and flooded a liquid and abundant seed ...... Take her now who will!....
>>> erste version.
>>> Giacomo Joyce 40
>>> Giacomo Joyce 42
My voice, dying in the echoes of its words, dies like the wisdom-wearied voice of the Eternal calling on Abraham through echoing hills. She leans back against the pillowed wall: odalisque-featured in the luxurious obscurity. Her eyes have drunk my thoughts: and into the moist warm yielding welcoming darkness of her womanhood my soul, itself dissolving, has streamed and poured and flooded a liquid and abundant seed ...... Take her now who will!....
>>> erste version.
>>> Giacomo Joyce 40
>>> Giacomo Joyce 42
parallalie - 31. Mär, 21:57
