Lying wet, the object I saw
 in this red morning, on a bed made of stones.
 Legs in the air, like a nympho [bad word] 
 burning and sweating poisons... 

Open, cynic and cut
 her womb full of exhalations.
 The morning sun reflect
 on this putrid womb 

As the skies looked down the carcass
 the world gave back a strange choir;
 chanting Satanas... 

Crawling... in pestilence obscene
 The Burning dawn rises in my eyes 

Forms were erased and nothing but a dream,
 slow outline [bad word] on the forgotten womb,
 only by a sight of memory survived
 yet similar to this refuse, 

Crawling... in a devotion obscene
 The Burning dawn rises in my eyes
 Swallowed... in misery
 Cursed eternally 

O horrible infection, foul of my eyes,
 vermin of nature, passion angels! 

Such you will be, o worms of life,
 after thy last sacraments, mildewing among the bones