I want to tell you something.
I am my father’s only son,
the apple of his eye.
I cannot leave his house.
I would like to touch your hair.
Feel the breeze of my caress.
Can you see sepulchral light
in my eye, when I try to trace
my finger across your cheekbone?
How beautiful you are!
With that alabaster skin
you could almost be a ghost
then we could be together for always.
You shiver. Alas, only a living man
could warm you in his embrace.
Don’t be afraid. I never committed
a crime, did not push my wife
from this balustrade. It was only
a promise I gave to my father.
I was brought up to keep promises.
A solemn little boy, serious husband,
doting father. They’ve all gone now,
left me here. You can see my portrait
on the stairs, though it doesn’t do me justice.
But yes, my wife was lovely.
So are you, my pretty one.
Come closer, I want to see
what you really think of me.
Will you perhaps allow one icy kiss
on the moist warm palm of your hand?
Ah, it burns like fire? Do not run away.