An Old Lamp Base
Cupid is sitting on the skull
Of Humanity;
On this throne the impious one
With the shameless laugh
Is gaily blowing round bubbles
That rise up in the air
As if they wanted to rejoin the globes
At the ether's end.
The sphere, fragile and luminous,
Takes flight quickly,
Bursts and spits out its flimsy soul
Like a golden dream.
I hear the skull groan and say
At every bubble:
"When will this fierce, ludicrous game
Come to an end?
Because what your pitiless mouth
Scatters in the air,
Monstrous murderer — is my brain,
My flesh and blood!"