When you will be in your cold stone
Skinny and motionless
If one feeling of this life is still in your skull
You will think of the nest
Of our eternal loves
When I brought to your sheets
Sweet flowers and blows.
You will think of the turquoise flame
and the phial that your tiny mouth
enjoyed a lot!
You will think of your murderous rush
Immense will be the abandons;
You will think of furious cries
You will think of delirious tears,
And religious oaths,
Oh, liar, living and dying
Just for my thoughts!
And you will feel, then, the worms
Rising from the dark,
And like a joyful starved insane
They will bite your heart.
(Original title in Italian: Vendetta postuma, first published in Penombre, 1864)