O my hate, so majestic
saintly, pure, and angelic
bless my excess with a fat caress
make me bow and make me proud.
Humped by humble squires
proud to be living sans Desire
sans Goodness, sans Faith
sans sun’s caressing grace.
O my hate, grandiloquent shield
agitate my soul to infinite zeal
beyond other harms concealed.
Hate wins, hate resounds!, armor
’gainst a vile amour that defrauds all—
seven deadly Sins of my ardor!
After CRUZ E SOUSA (Afro-Brazilian, c. 1898)