I should have stayed where I should have been,
if only I had known where I could live in secrecy,
may be a garden hidden behind the tall gloomy trees,
or a desolated island where Asteria would have fallen into the sea.

Sometimes I think of a slumber where the darkness would ever feel so preety,
where soft and tender snow would be the warmth of the furies,
that would be a shelter to the violence we all keep inside,
a perfect prison for...