BLACK. ANATHEMA
This time it was your face,
You won’t have one for years, but
it was a nightmarish conglomeration that I knew was yours.
And despite your pre-existence,
I wept desperately.
This time it was your face
that the puppet anchors dissect,
that months later the public neglects,
that I can’t forget.
And I leapt from my slumber anxiously.
This time it was your face.
And like the ones that came before,
the natural order is reversed.
My soul mourning you prematurely,
clutching my empty womb bitterly.
Esta vez era tu cara;
no tendrás una durante años, sin embargo
fue una conglomeración de pesadilla que supe que era tuya.
Y a pesar de tu pre-existencia,
lloré desesperadamente.
Este vez era tu cara
que los presentadores marionetas de noticias disecan,
que meses después el público ignora,
que no puedo olvidar.
Y salí de mi sueño ansiosamente.
Este vez era tu cara,
y como las que vinieron antes,
el orden natural es invertida.
Mi alma está de luto prematuramente,
agarrando mi vientre vacío amargamente.
(Traducción de Zackary G. Paine)