Winepress

Stern fate of all men’s life like grapes after harvest
their flesh brutally squashed under the satyr’s feet
their face cruelly flattened on the woods’ muddy ground
their blood gently kissing the dainty bacchant’s toes

Unrest of humankind trusters of uniqueness
as if they were the only ones giving their flesh
as if oblivion were to pass over their case
as if their cherry lips were not to feed the worms

Weakness of all warriors who one day see their lord
hopeless when looking at his exquisite green eyes
hopeless when melting in his destructive appeal
hopeless when squashed beneath his implacable soles

Fortune of our kind like cut from our vines
our skin softly ripped between two wooden arms
our soul mildly crushed under a ruthless smile
our life warmly smashed on a rocky beauty

Stern fate of all men’s life like grapes after harvest
their flesh brutally squashed under the satyr’s feet
their face cruelly flattened on the woods’ muddy ground
their blood gently kissing the dainty bacchant’s toes


Jean-Sébastien Desnanot


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