• El Lupo, version Anglaise

    The moon woke thanks to his orgasms

    The savage vibrations of hearts moving to summer pastures

    Gone searching far away, beyond fantasies

    An unheard of ectasy and a love in a trance


    In the shadow of worthless laughter

    So close to a promising feast

    Appears suddenly in the half-light

    A squadron and its leader


    We thought that his howling and his ruses were gone

    Pierced by the wooden stake of well-meaning people

    He had taken shelter in the forest of Abruzzo

    Words shall re-emerge out of old superstitions


    Tremble calm mortals for here is the pack again

    It shall become rooted in the midst of ancestral fears

    A brustish animal leading the riot

    With no ideals


    The moon then filled itself

    Like an artificial virgin

    To preside over

    What will be the beautiful night

    And the lost tears

     With so many trifles

    Will water the graves

    Of the lands of boredom.


    Traduction: Emma Bartel - 2014

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