Are you surprised that I don’t let my claws to rend backbiters?
Well, did you ever see a lion hunting fruits or beetles?
The poet swoops upon the highest renown,
With his inebriated flesh, the sacral hunger calms down.
I sent away the hunger until your world’s waste
I struggled for it with tigers and snakes,
I chased it inside of disasters and snares,
But when to catch it, you came into my sight, my dear!
You hunted me with your eyes, like smiling steels,
As fair game today in front of you I kneel;
Come on and break my heart, you make it immortal,
Let penetrate me through entrails your sweetest cruel:

For my verses, I offer now another sense,
With their noble blood to feed yourself.