CAPRICCIO FOR GOYA
Gone is the old horro r on ce and for all:
the who lesome beastliness,
the eternal beas tliness,
without grimaces and grin s.
Horror changes his character : friendl y,
he taps me on the shoulder,
woos me condescendingly
and plays with the image he has constructed fo r himself.
("You and I, we are equall y strong;
onl y you are a little more beautiful. .. ")
And smil es.
Ah , it's the smil e tha t makes him so sickening;
it makes him a pervert,
it makes him a luna ti c.
And I feel a new kind of vomit cho king me,
as if I'd been French -ki ssed
by babies with beards and mo ustaches.
