As through the pipes the waters fell down to the bottom of the well,
in listless apathy I gazed at the cold waters - as he bathed.
I half behold that scenery and its most sensual masculinity.
Yet, disappointment, oh, can't you see, is still the cause and the cardinal symptom of my sick, sad reality.

Silver equals chill, but that suits me just fine. I'm shyly sipping
water while he drinks whole jugs of wine. He likes all kind of women, and I I only HATE men.
He marvels at all things new to him - and I only wait for all things in this sick world to end.

The water pouring down his spine, caressed his strong physique, oh, so well-defined, calm like a rock he stands, oh, behold his beautiful body and soul a friendly God must have built this man to an all well-balanced whole.
What sad bewilderment this brought, physical clearness, alas, still so much abhorred:
an ancient ghost awoke and fiercely arose in me:
it was that old, savage, yet half-forgotten ideal of perfect neutrality.

Silver equals chill, but that suits me just fine. I'm shyly sipping water
while he drinks whole jugs of wine. He likes all kind of women, and I
I only HATE men.
He marvels at all things new to him -
and I only wait for all things in this sick world to end.

I somewhat envy this naturally beautiful man, he never knew or encountered the hatred and shame that I bare.
The doubt, the cloak of disgust and the all-devouring dread, and if I told him about it,
he might only shake his head with kindly amused, melodious laughter,
he then would perhaps merely smile at my oh, so stupid silliness
and the BEAST that is raging inside.