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This is a night of vigil for me,
in the shudder of my soul
I shall conceal
the secret of my youth.
I shall stand on guard:
No sleep nor slumber!
And in just one moment
the veil was taken away.
A…
Hey, women, spotted with typhus and riddled with rakes of fingers
Across autumn heads of woe,
Are you fruitful? Do you multiply? How many times each?
In whorehouses? On floors?
In the stable? In…