I love you.

Once I was bathing in a stagnant swamp in the forest—­I love to be clean—­it is a sign of noble birth, and I bathe frequently.  While bathing, dancing in the water, I saw my reflection, and as always, fell in love with myself.  I am so fond of the beautiful and the wise!  And suddenly I saw—­on my forehead, among my other inborn adornments, a new, strange sign—­Was it not this sign that has brought the heaviness, the petrified look, and the sweet taste in my mouth?  Here a cross is darkly outlined on my forehead—­right here—­ look.  Come closer to me.  Is this not strange?  But I did not understand it at that time, and I liked it.  Let there be no more adornment.  And on the same day, on that same terrible day, when the cross appeared, my first kiss became also my last—­my kiss became fatal.  One in many!  One in many!

Oh!

You love precious stones, but think, my beloved, how far more precious is a little drop of my poison.  It is such a little drop.—­ Have you ever seen it?  Never, never.  But you shall find it out.  Consider, my beloved, how much suffering, painful humiliation, powerless rage devoured me:  I had to experience in order to bring forth this little drop.  I am a queen!  I am a queen!  In one drop, brought forth by myself, I carry death unto the living, and my kingdom is limitless, even as grief is limitless, even as death is limitless.  I am queen!  My look is inexorable.  My dance is terrible!  I am beautiful!  One in many!  One in many!

Oh!

Do not fall.  My story is not yet ended.  Come closer to me.

And then I crawled into the stupid forest, into my green dominion.

Now it is a new way, a terrible way!  I was kind like a queen; and like a queen I bowed graciously to the right and to the left.  And they—­they ran away!  Like a queen I bowed benevolently to the right and to the left—­and they, queer people—­they ran away.  What do you think?  Why did they run away?  What do you think?  Look into my eyes.  Do you see in them a certain glimmer and a flash?  The rays of my crown blind your eyes, you are petrified, you are lost.  I shall soon dance my last dance—–­do not fall.  I shall coil into rings, I shall flash my scales dimly, and I shall clasp my steel body in my gentle, cold embraces.  Here I am!  Accept my only kiss, my nuptial kiss—­in it is the deadly grief of all oppressed lives.  One in many!  One in many!

Bend down to me.  I love you.

Die!

LOVE, FAITH AND HOPE

He loved.

According to his passport, he was called Max Z. But as it was stated in the same passport that he had no special peculiarities about his features, I prefer to call him Mr. N+1.  He represented a long line of young men who possess wavy, dishevelled locks, straight, bold, and open looks, well-formed and strong bodies, and very large and powerful hearts.