Anarchistbanjo's World

Hyacinths

I break apart many hundred hyacinths.
Lay my colorful hyacinths
On a white silk cloth—
There are large red hyacinths,
Large violet hyacinths,
Yellow, white and blue hyacinths.
 
And I bow my head down low,
Bury my forehead and my temples,
Immerse them in the colored hyacinths.
 
And I kiss my colorful bunches,
All the white, red and yellow bunches,
Bathing in the perfume of the hyacinths.
 
Miraculously gentle women’s hands
Covering me—
And my head lies on miraculously soft
Women’s breasts—
Women’s kisses close my eyes,
Encircling my neck, miraculously sweet,
Soft women’s arms.
 
Oh, I feel these light kisses,
Pressing through my skin with a soft trembling,
Slowly releasing my great pain.
 
Oh, I feel these fine hands,
Coaxingly caressing my moist curls,
Slowly closing my deep wound.
 
And from women’s hands and women’s kisses,
Exudes the perfume of tender women’s bodies,
The miraculous perfume of women’s bodies.
 
Sweet perfume, like summer breezes that
Flutter around me on white wings,
Soft enticing waves of chords
That flood through every fiber of my body.
 
Sweet perfume! On cool women’s breasts
Slide my hot glowing cheeks,
And in the twilight my senses reel
In the sweet perfume of women’s breasts.
 
—I break apart hyacinths, hyacinths,
Many hundred colorful hyacinths,
Hide my head in colorful hyacinths.
And I bathe in women’s kisses,
In the perfume of sweet women’s breasts,
In the sweet perfume of hyacinths.

-Hanns Heinz Ewers
translated by Joe Bandel