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A BAD SLEEPER, by             Poem Explanation     Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: He is a bad sleeper and it is a joy to me
Subject(s): Gays & Lesbians


He is a bad sleeper and it is a joy to me
To feel him well when he is the proud prey
And the strong neighbour of the best of sleep
Without false covers - no need - and without awakenings.
So near, so near to me that I believe he inflames me
In some way, with his overwhelming desire, that I feel
In my ravished and trembling body.
If we find ourselves face to face, and if he turns
Close to my side, as lovers are wont to do,
His haunches, deliriously dreamy or not,
Sudden, mutinous, malicious, stubborn, whorish,
In the name-of-God, his cravings, so gentle, will pierce my flesh,
And leave me girdled like a eunuch,
Or if I should turn to him with the wish
To sooth him; or, if peacefully we lie, his quietness,
Brutal and gentle, will suffuse my body in his;
And my spirit, out of happiness, will submerge and overwhelm him,
And prostrate him, infinite in that tack.
Am I happy? Totus in benigno positus!




MY God, them hast wounded me with love,
And the wound is vibrating still :
O my God, thou hast wounded me with love.


O my God, I am stricken with thy fear,
And the burn that quivers is yet here :
O my God, I am stricken with thy fear.


O my God, I have known that all is vile,


And thy glory in me is installed :


O my God, I have known that all is vile.


Drown my soul in the floods of thy Wine,
Found my life in the Bread of thy table :
Drown my soul in the floods of thy Wine.


Here is my blood that I have not poured,
Here is my flesh unworthy of suffering :
Here is my blood that I have not poured.


Here is my forehead that only has blushed,


For a stool for Thy feet adorable :


Here is my forehead that only has blushed.


Here are my hands that have not toiled,
For the ardent coals and the incense rare :
Here are my hands that have not toiled.


Here is my heart that has beat but in vain,
To palpitate on the thorns of Calvary:
Here is my heart that has beat but in vain.


Here are my feet, frivolous voyagers,
To run to the cry of thy grace :
Here are my feet, frivolous voyagers.


Here is my voice, noise shameful and lying,


For the reproaches of Penitence :


Here is my voice, noise shameful and lying.


Here are my eyes, lighted with error,
To be put out by tears and prayers :
Here are my eyes, lighted with error.


Alas, Thou, God of oblation and pardon,
What is the depth of mine ingratitude!
Alas, Thou, God of oblation and pardon.


God of terror and God of sanctity,
Alas, this black abyss of my crime :
God of terror and God of sanctity.


Thou, God of peace, of joy, and of happiness,


All my fears, all my ignorance:


Thou, God of peace, of joy, and of happiness.


Thou knowest all this, all this,
And that I am poorer than any one.
Thou knowest all this, all this.


But this that I am, my God, I give you.






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