I dreamed that you walked near the glacial wall
Which marks the utmost boundaries of existence,
Trailing there your dark magnificence
Of rich and mournful velvet over all.
Your feet, a decorum of ivory most pure,
Wounded with satanic pride and inclemence
The hapless souls who in mute patience
Yielded them to your perjured passion's lure.
My gentle love—that without rest or sleep
Ran after, like a piteous blind sheep,
Your shadow's perfumes, falling there apart—
Sought out your bondage, tortuous and sweet;
And beneath the cruel satin of your feet
I spread the carpet of my servile heart.
Julio Herrera Reissig.
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