Translated by Sizzo de Rachewiltz; 
revised by Mary de Rachewiltz



Beyond the object
involution of  commonplace-cankered
myths, step up
to inferred convinctions.
Vague baffling taking
from functions of sovereign life,
rogatory starry-eye in color.
Diasporas of  dissent
have failed to  reawaken, 
overwhelmed by he sudden
fulmination of a ban
biting and useless.
We want to think, and they too,
your sign of uncertainties
bedlam won wealth
leaves you with the illusion of seeming,
strong with the most recent past.
We want to think, and they too, 
free from ataraxy, senses
uprooted rather than rebellious.
Play the card of involution.
The taste of barren unions
achieves not strenght of vice:
it will damn your years to the last
and your almighty dollars to estinction.
Nobody will seek to understand you:  you shall pass
useless hermaphrodites,
humiliated  by thoughtless admiration
corrupters sans corruption.




Forbid ourselves judgement, possible
object for the soul, choose
constant values, following
hands written in charcoal,
racial desires hates
successions. One or more without
religions' absorptions, clear
in resolution; once wars
are over, no segregation of colors
of money, no jealousies, the replaced
heart beats, thought vomits beyond,
green turns to blood:
alone at the end not understanding
distant ones  are cried, close ones
killed. Just death to stop thinking.
Destinies of ending together
or later but always and all.
We want to live for and how, maybe to
be, not you, you can not:
you want to kill us.
They force us, cast behind the walls
your and my enemies, to think:
he's different, we are 
because we want to, only
and without, it does not matter how, but
live and kill us ourselves,
to resolve unto Him if we believe
if it is worth if it is. Without executioners:
hearts of black flesh and paper
hair, with or without money.
We don't want people with multicolored
tails, everybody has his
own death, I want to know mine, not
tell it. Think of your brother, stop
the machine that is crushing him, cure
the cancer that eats him, devour your money 
and don't tell, don't kill to
sanctify them, not all blood is
sacrifice, not all blood
generations, kill to believe in the
meaning of things. We, 
and they too, want to live.




Your degree, mine
of  translatism, 
organic disorganic, 
or pratical reason.
Pathicus, lascivious:
if the sensitive is so
why evade, have you
the dynamics to do it?
Every reduction to the
sensitive abolished: if yes
seek further. Quench
the thirst for shrink Shout
your degree, mine
of translatism:
have  no fear.




Order of the world as was 
the Pythagorean,
communication between monads.
Given a and b the subsequent
of a is equal to the subsequent of b
the two terms are the same. 
Harmony number cohesion
perfect watches
with odd numbers, unable
to understand
undistinguished distinctions. 
Object and cause do not
mingle in the unity of
the foundation, depth, 
not struggle, but harmony achieved.




Having recognized
an inner reality, the sage has
conscience: virtue becomes
commonplace and conscience
Mistaken about his life, 
so far from 
lost habits, only for a 
sphere of inwardness, which is:
reality overhead. Need to go back
over ourselves and become 
wath we want to




No progress but static
standstill. Ever questioned
never heard we
live again. The same, 
with same problems: yesterday
tomorrow, we made them act.
Authority destiny history:
animal reproduction of facts
sole renewal. In
repetition, fiction of time
is the artificer and the artifice.
Abderitism: conception
of  always never-ending.




Selfishness in order not to pretend,
to admit besides my own
the existence of
others? Values
for their own sake or just
for those they involve?
Countinuous feeling
through disgregation, 
not for an 
individual I.



8. ART

Principle or metaphysical appearance
one attempted to take from the object
which too was divided in partitions
we want   to find in techniques.
Perceptive technique: art
without distinction between highter or
less high, raving inspiration.
We do not want to fall in aesthetics
without catharsis, purged
of phony metaphysics, more real:
in immanence a credo, 
in self-distruction find ourselves.




Form has no imperfections
is neither participation nor part:
it fulfills itself. The form you observe
knows us, sets itself against
disgregation: already expected
before the end.




The hours conversing  with yourself:
thought and action, do not
lose them
we have worn out the wall
beyond which we can
find ourselves again, 
more real, less realized.




The third way to
distinguish A con-
sists of the relation between
A and oneself. A
identifies itself, there is
no alternative, hence




Having defied the system
let us throw flowers deny the past,
mating of brothers allowed:
praise to the changing   taste,
blessed be the wedlocks of homosexuals:
play waiting for useless yuletides.
Only he who tells man from man
may take part of reality,
witnesses and victims
of previous incarnations.
The system, is violence
in the face of ideas.
Vanity that forces to the part
to be represented. A similar
choice comes from habits.
The impotence of nerves, of phalli
is protest  against boredom
into which the real hurls us.
Lobby of forgotten merits, 
set up against anguish,
to come in order to become, so
coition can find expression:
subtle violence made of flowers
and of let them be.