A.M. Juster

Poet, Translator, Essayist

The Returning Spirit

Like angels with a primal look,
I'll slip again into your nook,
And by your side I will alight
Along with other shades of night
And I will give you, my dark mistress,
The chill of my unearthly kisses
And fondle you the way an asp
That guards a grave will close its grasp.
Once morning's blasted light arrives,
You'll sense no trace of me survives,
And yet all day frost will persist.
Your innocence and empathy
may charm the world, but as for me,
I ache to rule you with my fist.

(translated from the French of Baudelaire)

                    © 2018 A.M. Juster