"...Yet slender her shape and graceful, daintily chiselled her hip and her shoulder, slim and supple as a writhing serpent. Full young is she still. Was her soul exasperated beyond bearing, her senses by ennui gnawed and tormented, that she flung wide the door to the panting pack of wandering and accursed desires?
Yet, for all thy passion, couldst thou not sate thy vengeful lover? Did he whelm thy dully yeilding flesh with the immensity of his desire? Answer, defiled corpse, and tell me, ghastly head, did his fevered arm then raise thee by thy chill tresses and on the cold teeth imprint the last farewell?..."
"The Martyr" - Flowers of Evil - translated by Beresford Egan and C. Bower Alcock
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