Paroles de Rakhte Khak

Bound to hold a rod over her shrinking shoulders all the day and all the night to turn the whell of false desire and longings death wake her womb. To the ahborred birth of cherubs in the human form that live a pestilence an die. A meteor and are no more till child dwell with one he hates, and do the deed he loathes. And the impure scourge forge his seed its unripe birth e'er yet his eyelids can behold the arrows...