Make ready the ochre bride that
we want to see on the harbour
She’s the one who brought the thread that
helped to slice up a bovine sir
Now she’s doomed to be attached to
a horned serpent filled with venom
Hear him laughing at his own crew
crossing the sea without boredom
When the water chariot will
anchor its nail to our city
everyone would have already
opened the jugs not without skill
Celebrate as fast as you can
Tonight spectres are coming back
Before they could find our track
make that stranger our new khan
J.-S. Desnanot
Morris Kronfeld – Bull, 1962
BΑCCHOPITHÈQVE 