I shall not praise Love
I shall not extol this unbearable Cherub
Puffed-up little boaster
Pink and fat
Laughing much more than worrying
About the sufferings he provokes
I shall not sing Love
I shall not sing this terrible and yet futile weight on the heart
This splendid yet terrifying feeling
This trembling this twinge
This indignation this resignation
Must one have loved to write Love ?
No I shall not praise Love
Others shall do it much better
