blow on blow, in the ghastly water of the swamp,

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The delicate dictator is talking

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Hatred has grown scale on scale,

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cross the corridors at times

with a snout full of ooze and silence

The tiny palace gleams like a watchｒeaｄ•９９ｃsｗ.ｃｏm

Between the coconut palms the graves are full

whose seeds fall endlessly on the earth,

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An odor has remained among the sugarcane:

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of ruined bones, of speechless death-rattles.

with top hats, gold braid, and collars.

The weeping cannot be seen, like a plant