Текст песни L'heautontimioroumenos (1857) - Diamanda Galas

No rage, no rancor: I shall beat you
As butchers fell an ox,
As Moses smote the rock in Horeb-

I shall make you weep,
And by the waters of affliction
My desert will be slaked.
My desire, that hope has made monstrous,
Will frolic in your tears
As a ship tosses on the ocean-
In my besotted heart
Your adorable sobs will echo
Like an ecstatic drum.
For I - am I not a dissonance
In the divine accord,
Because of the greedy Irony
Which infiltrates my soul?
I hear it in my voice - that shrillness,
That poison in my blood!
I am the sinister glass in which
The Fury sees herself!
I am the knife and the wound it deals,
I am the...