Flesh that fears to grow old calls on the Devil
And asks him for consolation. The Devil listens
To the flesh's thousand forms of past energy
The flesh smiles again, in the vain hope
Of feeling forever that which was the grace
Of love in flower in flowing blessedness.
But hellish gifts are a new suffering
To the shamed defenseless flesh
And nothing is satisfied and a fragrance scatters
From flowers withered in horror.
Leave a guest comment (subject to review)
Comments
-
I see is as a loss of innocence, that what once the flesh did without compunction, the Devil gives a stain, a knowledge of guilt. What could be worse than pure innocence being shown that all it had done, with no thought to sin, was shameful. Leads to a lot of questions...the nature of guilt, pleasure, and the essence of moral values.
I wonder if this is at all inspired by the Faust legend?
Adding your comment:
