Bottom

Bottom

Reality
being too thorny for my great personality.

–I found myself nevertheless at my lady’s,

an enormous gray-blue bird soaring toward the moldings

of the ceiling and trailing my wings

through the shadows of the evening.

At the foot of the canopy supporting her adored gems

and her physical masterpieces, I was a great bear

with violet gums, fur hoary with sorrow,

eyes on the silver and crystal of the consoles.

Everything became shadow and ardent aquarium.

In the morning,– bellicose dawn of June,–

a donkey, I rushed into the fields,

braying and brandishing my grievance,

until the Sabine women of the suburbs

came and threw themselves on my neck.