Deep in the secret chambers of my heart I muse my life-long hate, and without flinch I bear it nobly as I live my part.

The wine-flushed, bold-eyed boys, and even the girls, Devoured her with their eager, passionate gaze; But looking at her falsely-smiling face, I knew her self …

I have forgotten much, but still remember The poinsiana's red, blood-red in warm December.

Although she feeds me bread of bitterness, And sinks into my throat her tiger's tooth, Stealing my breath of life, I will confess I love this cultured hell tha…