The vampire

You who, like the stab of a knife,

Entered my plaintive heart;

You who, strong as a herd

Of demons, came, ardent and adorned,

To make your bed and your domain

Of my humiliated mind

— Infamous bitch to whom I’m bound

Like the convict to his chain,

Like the stubborn gambler to the game, 

Like the drunkard to his wine, 

Like the maggots to the corpse,

— Accurst, accurst be you!

I begged the swift poniard 

To gain for me my liberty, 

I asked perfidious poison 

To give aid to my cowardice.

Alas! both poison and the knife

Contemptuously said to me:

“You do not deserve to be freed

From your accursed slavery,

Fool! — if from her domination

Our efforts could deliver you,

Your kisses would resuscitate

The cadaver of your vampire!”

— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)

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