The odour here is strong
I wear it around
Like a lip-stick
On the shoulder of an unfaithful spouse ...
To be sane here is hard
Everywhere reeks of marijuana of mad-ness
And frank-incense of licentious sins ...
The odour here is strong
I wear it around
Like a sultry scent worn on the
dangerous part of a yashmak ...
Surrounded by infidels
How can one beat his chest
Beat it hard and say:
I do not know of these goings-on
I do not share in the super of pains
Hosted with the blood of a wailing crowd
How can one say:
I am clean
Clean like a holy book
I am clean
Clean like the "inside" of the padre's chalice ...
Moved to a Golgotha of groans
Tonight I confess:
I, too, reek of this smell
