"At first, she came to me, pure;
all clothed in innocence,
and I loved her like a child.
Then she was dressing up
in goodness knows what fancies;
I hated her, not knowing why.
She even became a queen,
magnificent in her treasures…
what gall and bitterness; oh, what nonsense!
…Then she began undressing,
and I could smile upon her.
Soon she was left in her shift,
in her old innocence;
I believed in her once again.
Then she took it off
and appeared before me unclothed…
Oh, passion of all my life! Oh, poetry,
denuded and mine forever!"
