это довольно неприличная валентинка.
when we dissolve our silent gestures in the hot and sweaty air,
when scream and our everlasing breath beseech for pleasure which is never
to be achieved, for we are seperated with the ruins of existence
and there's no room for dissolution and for us, my mistress
the words of joy and malice, which in love are sure to dwell
inseparably, like sin and relish, women and their spell,
will be pronounced, with cruelty and love,
from which there's no return but through the joy, which pours from above
and runs through us until the very bottom of our natures,
first devastates, then purifies and then just makes us perish,
in relish and disgust, in moans and blasphemy,
and then deliberately makes the blaze from ash reincarnate -
- again -
in you and me.