quinta-feira, 7 de abril de 2011

"- But, wherefore dost thou not look at me? Thine eyes that were so terrible, so full of rage and scorn, are shut now. Wherefore are they shut? Open thine eyes! Lift up thine eyelids! Wherefore dost thou not look at me? I still live, but thou art dead, and thy head belongs to me. I can do with it what I will. I can throw it to the dogs and to the birds of the air. That wich the dogs leave, the birds of the air shall devour. Ah... thou wert the man that I loved alone among men. All other men were hateful to me. But thou were beautiful. Well, thou hast seen thy god, but me, me, thou didst never see. If thou hadst seen me thou hadst loved me. I saw thee, and I loved thee. What shall I do now? Neither the floods nor the great waters can quench my passion. Ah!, ah!, wherefore didst thou not look at me? If thou hadst looked at me thou hadst loved me. Well, I know that thou wouldst have loved me, and the mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death.  [...] There was a bitter taste on my lips. Was it the taste of blood? Perchance it was the taste of love. They say that love hath a bitter taste.

- Kill that woman!"


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