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diff --git a/tomb500000.tex b/tomb500000.tex index bc3cf88..aa0ed99 100644 --- a/tomb500000.tex +++ b/tomb500000.tex @@ -1,28 +1,32 @@ -\documentclass[10pt,twoside,draft]{memoir} +\documentclass[10pt,twoside]{memoir} %TODO run check for 0/O after cleaning up other things \usepackage{salitter} -\usletterlayout +\usletteredenlayout % ---- pkgs \usepackage{mwe} \usepackage{csquotes} \usepackage{amssymb} % for speech delimeters \usepackage{fdsymbol} % for speech delimeters - +\usepackage{titlesec} \antiquafont % ---- lib -\newcommand{\filmtitle}[1]{\booktitle{#1}} -\newcommand{\secbreak}{\plainbreak{3}} +\newcommand\filmtitle[1]{\booktitle{#1}} +\newcommand\secbreak{\plainbreak{3}} + +\newcommand\gl{$\langledot$\thinspace} +\newcommand\gr{\thinspace$\rangledot$} -\renewcommand{\gl}{$\langledot$\thinspace} -\renewcommand{\gr}{\thinspace$\rangledot$} +\newcommand\speech[1]{\gl~#1~\gr} -\newcommand{\speech}[1]{\gl~#1~\gr} +\newpagestyle{tmb}[]{ + \sethead[\thepage][Pierre Guyotat][]{}{\textsc{\chaptertitle}}{\thepage} + \setfoot[][][]{}{}{}} \begin{document} @@ -32,6 +36,7 @@ \author{Pierre Guyotat} \frontmatter +\pagestyle{tmb} \thispagestyle{empty} % -- title @@ -55,7 +60,7 @@ World English rights reserved \\ © Editions Gallimard 1968 \\ Translation © Remain Slocombe 2002 \\ Design: the Tears Corporation \\ -This book is published with the support of the French Ministry of Culture - Centre National du Livre \\ +This book is published with the support of the French Ministry of Culture --- Centre National du Livre \\ This book is supported by the French Ministry for Foreign Affairs, as part of the Burgess programme headed for the French Embassy in London by the Institut Francais du Royaume-Uni } @@ -69,13 +74,13 @@ This book is supported by the French Ministry for Foreign Affairs, as part of th \textquote{I dreamed this book high up on the watchtowers, half-asleep on guard duty, with before me the space of the night illuminated only by the moon and the stars.} At the time when he began to visualise \booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers}, among the arid zones and mountains of wartorn Algeria at the beginning of the 1960s, Pierre Guyotat was a young French soldier, in his early twenties, who participated in the Algerian war of colonial liberation after leaving his isolated home region in the mountains of south-central France for Paris. Although Guyotat had actively wanted to fight in the war, he eventually sided to a large degree with the Algerian rebels, incurring the wrath of the French military authorities; the book's incarcerated character Thivai undergoes much of the treatment Guyotat himself was subjected to. The spectacle of the Algerian war --- with its immense cruelties, tortures and arbitrary massacres of civilians (on both sides) as well as of soldiers, prefiguring many other conflicts over the subsequent forty years --- deeply marked Guyotat's vision and language; the speech of his fellow soldiers, with its sparse set of expelled phrases, counterpointed his own lavishly hallucinatory, epic generation of language. The book --- Guyotat's second extended work, after a novel entitled Ashby, set on the Northumberland coast of northern England --- was written after his return from Algeria to Paris, where he lived in poverty and constant hunger in the mid-1960s. -The publication of \booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers} in October 1967 shattered the future course of French writing, and made Guyotat a highly public and controversial figure in France, often subjected to violent controversies over the sexual and insurgent intensity of his work. Over the thirty-five years since its first publication, the book has become widely viewed as the greatest and most ambitious French novel of modern times, and Guyotat himself is universally seen as the sole living writer to rank with such crucial figures as Artaud, Bataille, Genet and de Sade. For all young French writers, artists and film-makers of originality in the subsequent decades, from Herve Guibert to Leos Carax, exposure to Guyotat's book would prove to be a seminal and determining creative experience, capable of coalescing and pushing further their own obsessions. Even while still in the process of writing the book, Guyotat was aware of the profound experimentation with the matters of language and the body which he was undertaking: an experiment that propelled his work far beyond the range of the literary novel, into an extreme sensory, visual and linguistic zone, capable of vitally inciting and transforming the perception of its reader. Early in 1965, after writing a hundred pages of the book (which he had started in October 1963), he gave a newspaper interview in which he was already intimating that his work in progress would radically overhaul and negate the preoccupations and strategies habitually associated with the form of the novel. He said: \textquote{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers is not a novel, it's a kind of epic, a story of adventures of war and emotion, with as its framework an imaginary country in Africa: a country under Occupation, and with a civil war going on. There are a few major heroic characters, then characters drawn from the crowd of inhabitants and soldiers from the two warring factions. There will be a mass of repetitions, words, images\ldots\ The idea for the book came to me after watching again Buhuel's film \filmtitle{Los Olvidados.} } Guyotat's emphasis on film --- rather than literature --- as an immediate inspiration for his book demonstrates its acute openness to every visual medium, though simultaneously each source-component of the book (elements of mythology and history, Lautreamont's \booktitle{Maldoror}, the Bible, and a vast range of works in art and cinema) becomes challenged or obliterated in its incorporation into Guyotat's language. +The publication of \booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers} in October 1967 shattered the future course of French writing, and made Guyotat a highly public and controversial figure in France, often subjected to violent controversies over the sexual and insurgent intensity of his work. Over the thirty-five years since its first publication, the book has become widely viewed as the greatest and most ambitious French novel of modern times, and Guyotat himself is universally seen as the sole living writer to rank with such crucial figures as Artaud, Bataille, Genet and de Sade. For all young French writers, artists and film-makers of originality in the subsequent decades, from Herve Guibert to Leos Carax, exposure to Guyotat's book would prove to be a seminal and determining creative experience, capable of coalescing and pushing further their own obsessions. Even while still in the process of writing the book, Guyotat was aware of the profound experimentation with the matters of language and the body which he was undertaking: an experiment that propelled his work far beyond the range of the literary novel, into an extreme sensory, visual and linguistic zone, capable of vitally inciting and transforming the perception of its reader. Early in 1965, after writing a hundred pages of the book (which he had started in October 1963), he gave a newspaper interview in which he was already intimating that his work in progress would radically overhaul and negate the preoccupations and strategies habitually associated with the form of the novel. He said: \textquote{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers is not a novel, it's a kind of epic, a story of adventures of war and emotion, with as its framework an imaginary country in Africa: a country under Occupation, and with a civil war going on. There are a few major heroic characters, then characters drawn from the crowd of inhabitants and soldiers from the two warring factions. There will be a mass of repetitions, words, images\ldots\ The idea for the book came to me after watching again Bu\~nuel's film \filmtitle{Los Olvidados.}} Guyotat's emphasis on film --- rather than literature --- as an immediate inspiration for his book demonstrates its acute openness to every visual medium, though simultaneously each source-component of the book (elements of mythology and history, Lautreamont's \booktitle{Maldoror}, the Bible, and a vast range of works in art and cinema) becomes challenged or obliterated in its incorporation into Guyotat's language. -In its anatomization of the forms of conflict and massacre, \booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers} is historically pitched between the 1962 end of the Algerian war, which saw France expelled in angry humiliation from its now-devastated colony, and the legendary Paris street-riots of May 1968, aimed at the overthrow of the repressive French state. Guyotat's book, published only months before those riots, contributed to the unprecedented aura of exhilaration and dissent of that moment, and phrases from Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers appeared stencilled among the graffiti that saturated the walls of Paris. But other historical moments, of catastrophic and enduring cruelty, are also deeply engrained in the book, as in the scene in which bound children hung from hooks have their limbs gradually sliced off, until their bodies form a heap of severed flesh on the ground. The second edition of the book was dedicated by Guyotat to his uncle, who had been deported to the Nazi concentration camp of Sachsenhausen for his Resistance activities during the Second World War. In July 1991, I travelled with Guyotat to the site of that concentration camp, to the north of Berlin, where his young uncle had been murdered. The medium of death at that particular camp was via a lethal injection or a bullet in the back of the neck; as we watched a film of Sachsenhausen's 1945 liberation in the camp's empty and godforsaken cinema, it seemed as though the spectators of those filmed atrocities still needed urgently to watch out for bullets in the back of the neck. At that time, soon after the forcible dissolution of East Germany, the camp's site was undergoing a reversal of its historical status - the Nazi genocide was being downplayed, and media attention was focused instead on 'the crimes of communism' perpetrated by the Soviet occupying forces, who had taken over the camp in 1945 and used it as a detention centre where many more inmates died, of starvation and exhaustion. Another part of the camp was then under threat of being demolished and turned into a supermarket (though in the end, this plan was abandoned). History itself was disintegrating in front of our eyes. In the camp's subterranean dissection room, through which his uncle's body had probably passed, Guyotat broke off a floor tile to keep as a fragment of memory. From its act of witness to the projects of Hitler, Lenin and Mao, \booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers} presciently embodies many subsequent conflicts --- among them, those of Cambodia, Bosnia and Kosovo --- as well as more recent, and contemporary, historical figures exacting massacre or revolution. +In its anatomization of the forms of conflict and massacre, \booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers} is historically pitched between the 1962 end of the Algerian war, which saw France expelled in angry humiliation from its now-devastated colony, and the legendary Paris street-riots of May 1968, aimed at the overthrow of the repressive French state. Guyotat's book, published only months before those riots, contributed to the unprecedented aura of exhilaration and dissent of that moment, and phrases from Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers appeared stenciled among the graffiti that saturated the walls of Paris. But other historical moments, of catastrophic and enduring cruelty, are also deeply ingrained in the book, as in the scene in which bound children hung from hooks have their limbs gradually sliced off, until their bodies form a heap of severed flesh on the ground. The second edition of the book was dedicated by Guyotat to his uncle, who had been deported to the Nazi concentration camp of Sachsenhausen for his Resistance activities during the Second World War. In July 1991, I traveled with Guyotat to the site of that concentration camp, to the north of Berlin, where his young uncle had been murdered. The medium of death at that particular camp was via a lethal injection or a bullet in the back of the neck; as we watched a film of Sachsenhausen's 1945 liberation in the camp's empty and godforsaken cinema, it seemed as though the spectators of those filmed atrocities still needed urgently to watch out for bullets in the back of the neck. At that time, soon after the forcible dissolution of East Germany, the camp's site was undergoing a reversal of its historical status --- the Nazi genocide was being downplayed, and media attention was focused instead on 'the crimes of communism' perpetrated by the Soviet occupying forces, who had taken over the camp in 1945 and used it as a detention centre where many more inmates died, of starvation and exhaustion. Another part of the camp was then under threat of being demolished and turned into a supermarket (though in the end, this plan was abandoned). History itself was disintegrating in front of our eyes. In the camp's subterranean dissection room, through which his uncle's body had probably passed, Guyotat broke off a floor tile to keep as a fragment of memory. From its act of witness to the projects of Hitler, Lenin and Mao, \booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers} presciently embodies many subsequent conflicts --- among them, those of Cambodia, Bosnia and Kosovo --- as well as more recent, and contemporary, historical figures exacting massacre or revolution. -\booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers} is utterly semen-drenched by innumerable sex acts --- their forms and participants infinitely permutating between slaves, masters, soldiers, generals, dogs and prostitutes. In his book, Guyotat assembled a unique vision of life as a relentless spectacle of slavery, prostitution, elation and degradation, in which only the delirious intervention of sex can explode power. In large part, this overriding presence of sex, layered into the book's relentless enumeration of acts of atrocity, led to the media furore which met the book's publication. Guyotat's own response was definitive: \textquote{I don't need to justify myself. In the end, I have something much worse to do, which is to live through my book.} The ongoing sexual detonation of the book has both generated and defeated numerous failed attempts to film it, though it has formed the raw material for several celebrated theatre performances, notably that directed by Antoine Vitez at the Palais de Chaillot in Paris, in 1981, during a period in which Guyotat fell into a near-fatal coma from the corporeal demands of his work. Guyotat's output since \booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers} has constituted a supremely resilient and innovative body of work, from \booktitle{Eden, Eden, Eden} (1970, published in English by Creation in 1995), to \booktitle{Prostitution} (1975), and through to his contemporary collaborations with artists and choreographers, and his immense multi-volume work, \booktitle{Progenitures} (the first volume of which appeared, together with a CD of Guyotat reading from the book, in 2000). +\booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers} is utterly semen-drenched by innumerable sex acts --- their forms and participants infinitely permutating between slaves, masters, soldiers, generals, dogs and prostitutes. In his book, Guyotat assembled a unique vision of life as a relentless spectacle of slavery, prostitution, elation and degradation, in which only the delirious intervention of sex can explode power. In large part, this overriding presence of sex, layered into the book's relentless enumeration of acts of atrocity, led to the media furor which met the book's publication. Guyotat's own response was definitive: \textquote{I don't need to justify myself. In the end, I have something much worse to do, which is to live through my book.} The ongoing sexual detonation of the book has both generated and defeated numerous failed attempts to film it, though it has formed the raw material for several celebrated theatre performances, notably that directed by Antoine Vitez at the Palais de Chaillot in Paris, in 1981, during a period in which Guyotat fell into a near-fatal coma from the corporeal demands of his work. Guyotat's output since \booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers} has constituted a supremely resilient and innovative body of work, from \booktitle{Eden, Eden, Eden} (1970, published in English by Creation in 1995), to \booktitle{Prostitution} (1975), and through to his contemporary collaborations with artists and choreographers, and his immense multi-volume work, \booktitle{Progenitures} (the first volume of which appeared, together with a CD of Guyotat reading from the book, in 2000). -English-language readers have been denied the experience of \booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers} for nearly four decades, though that delayed impact makes its final availability all the more miraculous. English-language writing possesses no parallels whatsoever to Guyotat's work, which stands ferociously alone even within the context of French writing; the reader of \booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers} enters uncharted sensory terrain, the engulfing \textquote{anus of the world}. Soon after the book's original publication, the sole typescript of an English-language version by the translator Helen Lane was destroyed by fire, either by accident or intentionally; even Guyotat himself is unsure of the exact circumstances of this notorious calamity, though Helen Lane (who suffered a profound spiritual crisis during her work on the book) had certainly viewed its action --- which she saw as being situated in a post-apocaiyptic timeframe --- as disorientatingly unlike any other work she had approached. Less combustible translations, notably that into the Japanese language, have projected the physical and visual matter of the book into other cultures, with consequences similar to those in France. Remain Slocombe's new translation --- retaining all of the dense splendour, linguistic rhythm and sheer virulence of the original book -- allows English-language readers their first opportunity to enact their own confrontation with Guyotat's seminal work. +English-language readers have been denied the experience of \booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers} for nearly four decades, though that delayed impact makes its final availability all the more miraculous. English-language writing possesses no parallels whatsoever to Guyotat's work, which stands ferociously alone even within the context of French writing; the reader of \booktitle{Tomb for 500,000 Soldiers} enters uncharted sensory terrain, the engulfing \textquote{anus of the world}. Soon after the book's original publication, the sole typescript of an English-language version by the translator Helen Lane was destroyed by fire, either by accident or intentionally; even Guyotat himself is unsure of the exact circumstances of this notorious calamity, though Helen Lane (who suffered a profound spiritual crisis during her work on the book) had certainly viewed its action --- which she saw as being situated in a post-apocalyptic timeframe --- as disorientatingly unlike any other work she had approached. Less combustible translations, notably that into the Japanese language, have projected the physical and visual matter of the book into other cultures, with consequences similar to those in France. Remain Slocombe's new translation --- retaining all of the dense splendor, linguistic rhythm and sheer virulence of the original book --- allows English-language readers their first opportunity to enact their own confrontation with Guyotat's seminal work. \signoff{--- Stephen Barber} @@ -90,17 +95,17 @@ English-language readers have been denied the experience of \booktitle{Tomb for \mainmatter \openright -\chapter{First Chant} +\chapter{First Song} -In those times, war covered Ecbatane. Many slaves escaped, clung to the victors, but when these tried to get information about the resistance of the occupied, the slaves refused to tell the names of their former masters, and therefore fell into even greater servitude. Ecbatane then was still the widest capital of the Occident : it had been built along fifteen kilometers of coastline. Every day, the beaches below the sea front boulevard, were covered with bodies of young members of the Resistance, who landed at night, only to be shot by the sea sentries. The victors had overcome easily : they had conquered a city which was ridding itself of its gods. Ecbatane was returning to the North, from where these victors, booted, helmeted, armour-plated, held the snow of their soles and the ice of their eyelashes. For a hundred years, the earth had been growing colder : Ecbatane's scientists worked secretly at a weapon capable of warming it up but the victors stole it from them. An airplane was built into which the weapon was put and also the scientists who were sent North. The victors persecuted those whom the capital threw out of its seas : adventurers, acrobats, soldiers. A few families, within the heart of the capital, refused to submit to the orders of denouncement and cruelty : their children, at night, would flee into the lands, others would embark in subterranean creeks of the south shore, all rallied in the Buxtehude archipelago still inviolate but covered day and night by the shadows of enemy bombers. +In those times, war covered Ecbatane. Many slaves escaped, clung to the victors, but when these tried to get information about the resistance of the occupied, the slaves refused to tell the names of their former masters, and therefore fell into even greater servitude. Ecbatane then was still the widest capital of the Occident : it had been built along fifteen kilometers of coastline. Every day, the beaches below the sea front boulevard, were covered with bodies of young members of the Resistance, who landed at night, only to be shot by the sea sentries. The victors had overcome easily : they had conquered a city which was ridding itself of its gods. Ecbatane was returning to the North, from where these victors, booted, helmeted, armor-plated, held the snow of their soles and the ice of their eyelashes. For a hundred years, the earth had been growing colder : Ecbatane's scientists worked secretly at a weapon capable of warming it up but the victors stole it from them. An airplane was built into which the weapon was put and also the scientists who were sent North. The victors persecuted those whom the capital threw out of its seas : adventurers, acrobats, soldiers. A few families, within the heart of the capital, refused to submit to the orders of denouncement and cruelty : their children, at night, would flee into the lands, others would embark in subterranean creeks of the south shore, all rallied in the Buxtehude archipelago still inviolate but covered day and night by the shadows of enemy bombers. -A young officer from Ecbatane, long despised by headquarters because he wished to hasten the modernization of the army, had fled, the day of surrender, to the Buxtehude archipelago, by means of a diplomatic mission to this allied country. Ecbatane had at once condemned the rebellion of her ambassadeur extraordinaire, who strove to convince the archipelago's government of the necessity and grandeur of his resistance. Buxtehude gave him a room in a sea resort hotel where he hung portraits of his wife and children still in Ecbatane, then a small studio at the national radio from which he broadcast his calls to Ecbatane, exhorting it to resistance, revival, political clarity ; then, at last, he was given some crates of weapons and ramshackie, closed-down barracks. Soon, all of the North, all of the Occident, parts of the Orient, caught fire. Never had the conqueror enough of these fires, to lighten the secret darkness of his soul, nor of blood to mix with his tears. Into humiliated Ecbatane, he came at dawn of the day of surrender, sat down in the gallery of a triumphal arch and watched the city asleep ; his boot scraped the cement, a rat ran under the balustrade, he caught its head under his boot and crushed it, the blood dried with the sharp wind, a bodyguard bent down, wiped with his handkerchief the blood on the boot, took the rat and wrapped it in the handkerchief. The conqueror stroked the knee of the guard who was getting up~: +A young officer from Ecbatane, long despised by headquarters because he wished to hasten the modernization of the army, had fled, the day of surrender, to the Buxtehude archipelago, by means of a diplomatic mission to this allied country. Ecbatane had at once condemned the rebellion of her ambassadeur extraordinaire, who strove to convince the archipelago's government of the necessity and grandeur of his resistance. Buxtehude gave him a room in a sea resort hotel where he hung portraits of his wife and children still in Ecbatane, then a small studio at the national radio from which he broadcast his calls to Ecbatane, exhorting it to resistance, revival, political clarity ; then, at last, he was given some crates of weapons and ramshackle, closed-down barracks. Soon, all of the North, all of the Occident, parts of the Orient, caught fire. Never had the conqueror enough of these fires, to lighten the secret darkness of his soul, nor of blood to mix with his tears. Into humiliated Ecbatane, he came at dawn of the day of surrender, sat down in the gallery of a triumphal arch and watched the city asleep ; his boot scraped the cement, a rat ran under the balustrade, he caught its head under his boot and crushed it, the blood dried with the sharp wind, a bodyguard bent down, wiped with his handkerchief the blood on the boot, took the rat and wrapped it in the handkerchief. The conqueror stroked the knee of the guard who was getting up~: --- Take this rat to the kitchens, we'll have those dogs eat it after they've signed. Old men, priests, patriots, gave themselves a chief who pleased the conqueror. This chief had once won a great victory by tasting his soldiers' soup. Ecbatane was still trembling with the pleasure of its feasts. Now its poets, its musicians died under the whip, in the forests of the North. The women's deep eyes hardened. -Ecbatane let its old chief talk of tradition and national pride : not long ago it had reinvented universal conscience. From this time dates the rising of a new virtue named common sense, a lessened form of the savage custom. Some poets celebrated the tools : rakes, forks, cattle, people ; oxes were awarded prizes for service to the fatherland, national ribbons were attached to the heaviest ears of wheat ; children who had saved from water or fire brother or grandma, the old chief wished to meet them and reward them : the child was pushed into the waiting room, holding against his chest a small paper flag of which he wouid say to the chief that he kept it day and night under his shirt, the old man then appeared, kissed the child's forehead, bending down towards him ; next, at a sign of his hand, the aide-de-camp opened a cardboard box, took out a stick as fat as a lollipop, painted with the national colours~: +Ecbatane let its old chief talk of tradition and national pride : not long ago it had reinvented universal conscience. From this time dates the rising of a new virtue named common sense, a lessened form of the savage custom. Some poets celebrated the tools : rakes, forks, cattle, people ; oxen were awarded prizes for service to the fatherland, national ribbons were attached to the heaviest ears of wheat ; children who had saved from water or fire brother or grandma, the old chief wished to meet them and reward them : the child was pushed into the waiting room, holding against his chest a small paper flag of which he would say to the chief that he kept it day and night under his shirt, the old man then appeared, kissed the child's forehead, bending down towards him ; next, at a sign of his hand, the aide-de-camp opened a cardboard box, took out a stick as fat as a lollipop, painted with the national colors~: --- Receive this emblem of my authority, may it grow at the same speed as your courage. @@ -114,7 +119,7 @@ As he saw that the child was taking pleasure in talking to him, the chief had hi The child touched the key, the priest pulled him away ; gunshot, the young man collapses against the lit up glass ; the patrol invades the kitchen ; the blood, around the young man's head, shines under the moonlight, the priest serves drinks, a soldier noticing the ring at the child's lip~: ---- This one too belongs to them ? Drink with us, priest. You, pour the wine. +--- This one too belongs to them~? Drink with us, priest. You, pour the wine. And in the same time he catches the child by the waist, pulls him and pricks the child's bare torso with the point of his dagger and pinches and twists his nipples between the thumb and the index ; the child struggles, rolls against the open door, his hair dipped in the blood ; the priest strokes the soldiers' badges, has the meaning of the symbols explained to him, his hand quivers on the cold metal ; the napes and cheeks of the soldiers smell of wind and ice. @@ -162,7 +167,7 @@ The soldiers lift the child's body, still breathing. The priest goes up to the room, with the child ; squatting in front of the chest of drawers, they pull out A\"{\i}ssa's clothes, the priest packs them inside a small suitcase, they go down again ; the officer takes the child's hand~: ---- Did you take your violin ? if we return to the North, I will need you to rid me of my melancholy. +--- Did you take your violin~? if we return to the North, I will need you to rid me of my melancholy. The priest bends over the child, but a soldier lifts up his weapon. @@ -174,23 +179,23 @@ The rebel rattles ; three tanks are stopped in front of the garden : the helmete At dawn the officer rises, naked, flings back the sheets crossed by a pink gleam ; the child sleeps in front of the door, twisted inside a khaki blanket, head rolling over the suitcase ; the officer walks towards the window, spits his chewing-gum, strokes the lukewarm tiles, lights a cigarette : two women pass, under blue parasols ; the officer whistles, one woman lifts her head, she sees the naked young man sitting on the window sill, the shadow of the smoke on his forehead, the penumbra made by the opposite wall, like a net over the belly and thighs, the officer smiles, pulls out his cigarette, rubs his lip with the thumb ; the two women walk up to a small garden on the terrace, sit down on the chairs wet by dew, one of the women claps her hands : a little girl appears, bare legs under a kind of short tunic spangled with gold, the top of the tunic is damp, the woman touches~: ---- Who beat you and bloodied you ? Oh well then, shut up, bring the coffee and the toasts. +--- Who beat you and bloodied you~? Oh well then, shut up, bring the coffee and the toasts. The girl runs away : fresh blood on her throat. \speech{Some little cook must have beaten her because she refused to have sex with him. I encourage those servile couplings.} She lifts again her gaze towards the naked young man, whose buttock almost touches the cool tiles, he smiles, sees the half uncovered breasts of the youngest woman, the glittering drops of dew on the pearly skin, hardened like a beast's skin, the slight down over the upper lip, he searches, with his foot, his sandals made of ass leather, he leans his head a bit, the smoke, blue-tinged by his cigarette's rays, mixes with his lashes, pricks his eyes ; she watches the penis rise over the line of the young man's thighs, she turns her head away, scratches with her nail the trace of a bird's shit on the green table, the umbrella unfurls and rolls along her leg which she uncovers up to the knee with her thumb, she raises her eyes towards the young officer~: ---- Day broke this morning earlier and more to the left of the occupying forces' quarter. Do you still love as much lieutenant Ierissos ? One says that he is suspected of having blown up the train from Ouranopolis. +--- Day broke this morning earlier and more to the left of the occupying forces' quarter. Do you still love as much lieutenant Ierissos~? One says that he is suspected of having blown up the train from Ouranopolis. -But the chief defends him ; long ago, before the war, the chief saw him, a fancy-dressed child at a laureate's party, he drew him into the garden, made him sit on a stone bench at the edge of the pond, took his feet, kissed them, his lips move up to the knees of the child who blushes behind his collarette : \speech{You're an orphan ? Your father died in the battle where I was in command, your mother in the arms-factory. You'll be a soldier, I want it. I'll give you a slave to bear your armour. Come to my castle. You'll keep a weapon under your mattress.} +But the chief defends him ; long ago, before the war, the chief saw him, a fancy-dressed child at a laureate's party, he drew him into the garden, made him sit on a stone bench at the edge of the pond, took his feet, kissed them, his lips move up to the knees of the child who blushes behind his collarette : \speech{You're an orphan~? Your father died in the battle where I was in command, your mother in the arms-factory. You'll be a soldier, I want it. I'll give you a slave to bear your armour. Come to my castle. You'll keep a weapon under your mattress.} -A jeep takes the child with his luggage, it jumps on the inside courtyard's pavement, the chief's former soldiers, squatting under the French windows, draw themselves up, one of the child's legs hangs out of the jeep, the movement uncovers the penis's down, under the half-open shorts, the chief is standing, he sees, he gulps ; next to him, a boy with a ringed lip bends against the paving his javelin of ash~: +A jeep takes the child with his luggage, it jumps on the inside courtyard's pavement, the chief's former soldiers, squatting under the French windows, draw themselves up, one of the child's legs hangs out of the jeep, the movement uncovers the penis' down, under the half-open shorts, the chief is standing, he sees, he gulps ; next to him, a boy with a ringed lip bends against the paving his javelin of ash~: --- Here is your armour-bearer, Aravik, he'll serve you day and night, will sleep against your door, this is the whip to flog him, and the key to the prison. The boy looks up towards Ierissos, his eyelashes get caught in a scar across his forehead and the line of his eyebrows, he opens his arms, holds out the javelin to Ierissos, his feet, naked, are covered with manure, with horse's blood. -The chief takes Ierissos by the shoulder, the boy throws Ierissos's baggage over his own shoulder, he walks on the wet pavement --- since the war began it rains all through the year. The chief drags Ierissos off to the castle's central gallery ; on the tiled floor, under the windows, some levers and small cannons ready to fire~: +The chief takes Ierissos by the shoulder, the boy throws Ierissos' baggage over his own shoulder, he walks on the wet pavement --- since the war began it rains all through the year. The chief drags Ierissos off to the castle's central gallery ; on the tiled floor, under the windows, some levers and small cannons ready to fire~: --- This to protect the Queen of the Night. Her former lovers besiege the castle every night. @@ -198,13 +203,13 @@ A young woman leads Ierissos to the prepared room ; she leans over the drawer wh --- Come and stroke them, if you wish, I am a slave. -Ierissos squats down, his shorts of grey flannel tear, the young woman throws a hand towards the siit, between Ierissos's thighs, the child stretches his hand out towards the breasts gilded by the rising sun, he touches them, his fingers press the nipples, a drop of milk spurts on his fingers, he drinks it ; the young woman, her head tilted backwards, catches Ierissos's arm, pushes him back. +Ierissos squats down, his shorts of grey flannel tear, the young woman throws a hand towards the slit, between Ierissos' thighs, the child stretches his hand out towards the breasts gilded by the rising sun, he touches them, his fingers press the nipples, a drop of milk spurts on his fingers, he drinks it ; the young woman, her head tilted backwards, catches Ierissos' arm, pushes him back. -Ierissos kisses that hand, kisses the breasts, the rays warm up his lips, Ierissos's eyelashes beat upon the top of the breasts, upon the nipples, the young woman leans her head on Ierissos's temple, kisses his hair, the ear, Ierissos feels the ring running inside the folds of his ear, brusquely he holds his head up again, takes the slave's lips, nibbles the ring, his little tongue burrows into the seething palate, rolls upon the teeth, those that were broken by the whip or the hand ; his fist descends between the breasts, under the dress ; Bactriane's hand catches the linen and slips it inside the drawer, then comes back to Ierissos's shoulders, pulls the collar of his shirt, covers the rolling rings of the neck ; a cloud veils the sun, Bactriane and Ierissos let themselves go ; the door is wide open on the vestibule, Aravik appears, wearing clogs of wood and ass leather, he is standing, arms stretched, loaded with logs and bark ; Ierissos, lying on the bed, knees raised, watches the rosy cloud, Bactriane crouching, is putting the linen away, she gets up, walks to Aravik, takes the wood from the marble top ; on the pieces of bark, the blood from Aravik's fingers, who, still standing, on the threshold, rubs them against his hip ; Ierissos utters a little scream, Bactriane rises to her feet, runs toward the bed, covers Ierissos's mouth with her hand~: +Ierissos kisses that hand, kisses the breasts, the rays warm up his lips, Ierissos' eyelashes beat upon the top of the breasts, upon the nipples, the young woman leans her head on Ierissos' temple, kisses his hair, the ear, Ierissos feels the ring running inside the folds of his ear, brusquely he holds his head up again, takes the slave's lips, nibbles the ring, his little tongue burrows into the seething palate, rolls upon the teeth, those that were broken by the whip or the hand ; his fist descends between the breasts, under the dress ; Bactriane's hand catches the linen and slips it inside the drawer, then comes back to Ierissos' shoulders, pulls the collar of his shirt, covers the rolling rings of the neck ; a cloud veils the sun, Bactriane and Ierissos let themselves go ; the door is wide open on the vestibule, Aravik appears, wearing clogs of wood and ass leather, he is standing, arms stretched, loaded with logs and bark ; Ierissos, lying on the bed, knees raised, watches the rosy cloud, Bactriane crouching, is putting the linen away, she gets up, walks to Aravik, takes the wood from the marble top ; on the pieces of bark, the blood from Aravik's fingers, who, still standing, on the threshold, rubs them against his hip ; Ierissos utters a little scream, Bactriane rises to her feet, runs toward the bed, covers Ierissos' mouth with her hand~: --- You have flames in your eyes, clouds pass, mingle with the fumes ; knife-golden discs are turning, inside the iris\ldots -Ierissos's knees, his stomach, tense up, Aravik scuttles off ; the chief of the guards catches him in the staircase, forces his head against the bronze ball and the hand on the ramp, the guard's mouth is smeared with blackberry juice, his breath, over Aravik's face has the scent of dew, of suspended mud ; then he releases Aravik's head and hand, points out with his finger the unbuttoned fly, pushes his foot forward, his unlaced shoe, Aravik squats down. +Ierissos' knees, his stomach, tense up, Aravik scuttles off ; the chief of the guards catches him in the staircase, forces his head against the bronze ball and the hand on the ramp, the guard's mouth is smeared with blackberry juice, his breath, over Aravik's face has the scent of dew, of suspended mud ; then he releases Aravik's head and hand, points out with his finger the unbuttoned fly, pushes his foot forward, his unlaced shoe, Aravik squats down. --- In the kitchens I saw a woman who looks like you, I took her on the straw mat in the butcher's alcove. @@ -254,7 +259,7 @@ The young guard, straightening up, the penis hardened under the linen, salutes, --- No, she doesn't want to appear undressed before the chief. One says he took little Ierissos to love him, as a consolation for this refusal. He is now in his room, the child is struggling on the bed, nailed like a butterfly. -In the evening, Ierissos, bruised, his cock scorched, rambles through the orchard ; the trees, veiled by the fumes from the manure and rubbish dump, creak under the weight of the fruits. A footstep, he turns back, a woman, tall, radiant --- from a long way off he sees the sadness in her eyes --- comes towards Ierissos ; he wants to hide inside a clump of shrubs, a perfumed hand touches his shoulder and grabs it at once, he lets himself go against the woman's belly and his lips follow, press the throbbings of that belly ; they walk to the orangery, lie down on a litter of warm straw, embrace, drink each other's tears, mingle their saliva ; night climbs upon the greenhouse's panes, a salted breath, coming from the sea, shrouds the greenhouse and the orchard, two guards awake : one of them stands up again on his wooden leg, his back, his loins rub against the French window, a cold sweat wets his forehead like a spittle ; a scar where blood wells up every night, on waking from the reverie, crosses his fair hair, his lips fat and red come unstuck, blood bathes his gums ; he drags himself along on the tiled floor, crosses the courtyard, pushes the door to the dining hall, sits on the bench stained with blood where tufts of cotton are stuck ; upon the whitewashed wall, a large photograph of the chief ; the young guard listens to the noises from the kitchen, the shouts, the laughs, the tears of the slaves, he bends his head against his wrists, his wooden leg runs into a table, blood trickles among his hair, bites at his forehead ; other guards push the door, sit down, get up, walk into the kitchens, fondle the slaves, tuck up their dresses or unbutton their shorts, rub themselves against the hips, the loins, twist the slaves' arms, burn them with boiling water, strike them, pull them around with the ladles and the rolling pins ; inside the dining hall, the blond guard holds his head in his fists, a slave from the kitchen, through the guards, brings him a plateful of meat and cabbage, her hand lingers on the wood of the table ; the guard takes it, strokes it, his eyes move towards the slave's face~: +{\sloppy In the evening, Ierissos, bruised, his cock scorched, rambles through the orchard ; the trees, veiled by the fumes from the manure and rubbish dump, creak under the weight of the fruits. A footstep, he turns back, a woman, tall, radiant --- from a long way off he sees the sadness in her eyes --- comes towards Ierissos ; he wants to hide inside a clump of shrubs, a perfumed hand touches his shoulder and grabs it at once, he lets himself go against the woman's belly and his lips follow, press the throbbings of that belly ; they walk to the orangery, lie down on a litter of warm straw, embrace, drink each other's tears, mingle their saliva ; night climbs upon the greenhouse's panes, a salted breath, coming from the sea, shrouds the greenhouse and the orchard, two guards awake : one of them stands up again on his wooden leg, his back, his loins rub against the French window, a cold sweat wets his forehead like a spittle ; a scar where blood wells up every night, on waking from the reverie, crosses his fair hair, his lips fat and red come unstuck, blood bathes his gums ; he drags himself along on the tiled floor, crosses the courtyard, pushes the door to the dining hall, sits on the bench stained with blood where tufts of cotton are stuck ; upon the whitewashed wall, a large photograph of the chief ; the young guard listens to the noises from the kitchen, the shouts, the laughs, the tears of the slaves, he bends his head against his wrists, his wooden leg runs into a table, blood trickles among his hair, bites at his forehead ; other guards push the door, sit down, get up, walk into the kitchens, fondle the slaves, tuck up their dresses or unbutton their shorts, rub themselves against the hips, the loins, twist the slaves' arms, burn them with boiling water, strike them, pull them around with the ladles and the rolling pins ; inside the dining hall, the blond guard holds his head in his fists, a slave from the kitchen, through the guards, brings him a plateful of meat and cabbage, her hand lingers on the wood of the table ; the guard takes it, strokes it, his eyes move towards the slave's face~: \par} --- My leg hurts tonight. I want to die. @@ -270,11 +275,11 @@ The guard takes the slave's shoulder, presses his lips on the wound and sucks th --- Buy me, buy me or I will die torn to pieces, yesterday they seized me and sewed me inside the horsehair of a mattress, cutting a hole in the cloth at the place of my thighs and everyone could then fuck me choking inside the horsehair, eyes pricked by sweat, and the cloth, around the hole, blackens and sticks to my belly ; I can't see them, I recognize them only by their cocks. Set me free, I'll work for your living. -The guard strokes the hair, the temples, the slave's forehead, strokes, soothes the restless forehead, the quivering neck, his belly touches the belly still wet, the stain on the dress called \speech{slave's stain}, his wooden leg crushes the foot of the now silent slave, motionless and quivering against the guard. +{\sloppy The guard strokes the hair, the temples, the slave's forehead, strokes, soothes the restless forehead, the quivering neck, his belly touches the belly still wet, the stain on the dress called \speech{slave's stain}, his wooden leg crushes the foot of the now silent slave, motionless and quivering against the guard. \par} \secbreak -Inside the orangerie, beneath the panes of glass which sparkle like ice, the Queen of the Night, kneeling, her hands clinging to Ierissos's knees~: +Inside the orangerie, beneath the panes of glass which sparkle like ice, the Queen of the Night, kneeling, her hands clinging to Ierissos' knees~: --- Kill me, kill the slaves in this castle, release me, release them, little slave without a ring, with naked lips. He took me from the Opera house where I was singing, his soldiers drank and raped on the bloodstained snow, illuminated by the lights of the Opera, they throw shreds of raw meat at the high shutters, he catches my hand ; the soldiers share between them the little dancers and the assistant stagehands ; the whole city is ablaze, the soldiers throw the king's dead body out of the window ; the prince, in pyjamas, they crush him inside his bed, strangle him with the bars of pink wood, quarter him at the four corners of the nursery. Since two years I've been resisting him, I cannot go out during daytime ; at night I wander, barefooted, on the glittering pebbles, he attacks me, he grips me, my eyes flash with anger, then he lets me go, he runs to the dormitories, wakes a sleeping slave with a blow of his heel, drags her, all the way to his room, he lies upon: her, he strangles her with his fingers, he opens the window on the icy wind, he throws his hands into the tumultuous darkness : \speech{See these hands, you just died, strangled.} @@ -293,7 +298,7 @@ The guard leads Ierissos by the hand, they go to the kitchens, raise the alcove These soldiers lived on the Leuctres promontory ; neither the army, nor the government, nor the civilians, dared to besiege them : often they came down into Ecbatane, marched through the city, armed, decorated, the police would draw aside, the civilians applaud, the women quiver, the children follow shouting or silent. Ierissos, the two slaves and the blond guard drive up to Leuctres : the children of soldiers throw flowers on the jeep's bonnet. -Several times, the chief comes to visit Ierissos in Leuctres, Ierissos wears on his finger the ring of the Queen of the Night. Now a young man, Ierissos comes down to Ecbatane, the chief appoints him lieutenant. All the chief's slaves are dead when Ierissos enters the castle again ; skeletons crouching, lying, teaning against the corner-posts, a whip wound around the bone of the neck, a dagger stuck into the jaw. Ierissos walks through the orchard, pushes the door of the orangerie, squats down, his lips alight on the place of mud floor where the Queen of the Night fell, sand covers the panes of glass ; at each breathing of the sea, the door, pushed by the wind, opens or closes ; the chief is waiting in the inside courtyard, he tramples the skeletons underfoot. Ierissos, sitting on the stone bench, his head under the powdery palms, turns the ring around his finger ; an apple, which he tears open, has the taste of blood, he strokes the down on his upper lip ; he hums a tune to be sung over water, which Bactriane learnt from the Queen of the Night, one evening when Bactriane, hunted by the guards, had taken refuge inside her bedroom. The chief moves forward, he scatters some small branches, his boots squash the rotten apples. Leuctres, abandoned, children there play war ; for a time, Leuctres opened its gates to runaway slaves, to raped orphans, and closed itself upon them, Ecbatane had mellowed. Those from Leuctres used to eat together, in summer on the square at the end of the cape, in winter in an ancient deconsecrated church, under the boat's framework ; all came to the table, even the new-born. Foreign reporters went up to Leuctres to take photographs of the horde ; the blond guard lived with the slave in a wooden house ; all night, he writhed and moaned on the bed, in daytime he would get into the jeep, stop it at the edge of the cape and watch the sea, caressing absentmindedly the children who came up and touched his wooden leg ; the murmur of the city, if the wind brought it to his ears, would make the foam spout up to his lips, he then moved his hand everywhere on his body, as though a hand, a whip, were striking him. +Several times, the chief comes to visit Ierissos in Leuctres, Ierissos wears on his finger the ring of the Queen of the Night. Now a young man, Ierissos comes down to Ecbatane, the chief appoints him lieutenant. All the chief's slaves are dead when Ierissos enters the castle again ; skeletons crouching, lying, leaning against the corner-posts, a whip wound around the bone of the neck, a dagger stuck into the jaw. Ierissos walks through the orchard, pushes the door of the orangerie, squats down, his lips alight on the place of mud floor where the Queen of the Night fell, sand covers the panes of glass ; at each breathing of the sea, the door, pushed by the wind, opens or closes ; the chief is waiting in the inside courtyard, he tramples the skeletons underfoot. Ierissos, sitting on the stone bench, his head under the powdery palms, turns the ring around his finger ; an apple, which he tears open, has the taste of blood, he strokes the down on his upper lip ; he hums a tune to be sung over water, which Bactriane learnt from the Queen of the Night, one evening when Bactriane, hunted by the guards, had taken refuge inside her bedroom. The chief moves forward, he scatters some small branches, his boots squash the rotten apples. Leuctres, abandoned, children there play war ; for a time, Leuctres opened its gates to runaway slaves, to raped orphans, and closed itself upon them, Ecbatane had mellowed. Those from Leuctres used to eat together, in summer on the square at the end of the cape, in winter in an ancient deconsecrated church, under the boat's framework ; all came to the table, even the new-born. Foreign reporters went up to Leuctres to take photographs of the horde ; the blond guard lived with the slave in a wooden house ; all night, he writhed and moaned on the bed, in daytime he would get into the jeep, stop it at the edge of the cape and watch the sea, caressing absentmindedly the children who came up and touched his wooden leg ; the murmur of the city, if the wind brought it to his ears, would make the foam spout up to his lips, he then moved his hand everywhere on his body, as though a hand, a whip, were striking him. One afternoon, he threw the jeep on the rocks down below, died with his head crushed under a tyre and his arm ripped off, caught in the steering wheel. All the couplings were performed standing, against the doors and the palisades. @@ -301,9 +306,9 @@ The chief sits beside Ierissos~: --- Only one little girl-slave remained faithful to me. I've been forgotten by Ecbatane. Wait a short time and you will call me back again ; those from the North will bring out the weapons from the ice, children, women are quenching the bullets, wetting the incandescent steel of their cannons. Here, women drag their long dresses on the limousines' running boards, at Ecbatane's racecourse, buy little slaves for their idle sons. Presently, markets are held on the estuary banks, many Asians bought by the Northern merchants and sold at the frontier towns of Ecbatane ; they are chained and lying inside the barracks and aircraft hangars built towards the end of the war ; the merchants sell them at low prices, in families : a complete family for the city latrines ; the wife at the till, the man helped by his boys, cleans the cesspools, and the girls, the tiles ; a complete family for the State sculptor ; another one for the school, the masters inebriate the whole family in front of the children to make them sick for ever of wine and drunkenness ; another school, where the headmaster, under the influence of a Northern doctrine, gives to his pupils lessons of sexual education : one man then pushes one of those families on the platform, one forces the father to mate with his wife, the father with his daughter, the daughter with her brother ; then, to make clear the ugliness of unnatural couplings, the father with his boys, those same boys together then with their mother, at last, the mother with her daughters and those same daughters together ; the master touches the copulating bodies, sweating, taut, with his ruler, explains the movements, makes warnings ; catches on the tip of that ruler a drop of semen or sperm, and has the ruler passed among the rows. -Back in tumultuous Ecbatane, the city crammed with slaves, where entire families are preparing to flee, the chief is applauded along the large central avenues ; his car advances slowly, he holds Ierissos's wrist ; the bonnet shines, fawn-coloured and blue in the twilight ; newspapers thrown, waved by the little slaves are filled with disquieting threats ; the surge of Asian slaves pointed to a star-shaped thrust by the Northern armies. Ecbatane linked by multiple alliances to countries coveted by the master of the North, slackly gets prepared for a war it deems imaginary, being too foreseeable and which it pushes away to some distant future ; the time of peace had taken the reality of a dream, Ecbatane, strong with its thousands of slaves, by them put to sleep, softened by the excessive use it made on them of its desires and its cruelties, reassured and stupefied by their flattery and their dangerous faithfulness, Ecbatane watches those newspapers and passes and withdraws in the autumn mist, knees suddenly pierced by their fear, amongst the crowd of its innocent slaves. +Back in tumultuous Ecbatane, the city crammed with slaves, where entire families are preparing to flee, the chief is applauded along the large central avenues ; his car advances slowly, he holds Ierissos' wrist ; the bonnet shines, fawn-coloured and blue in the twilight ; newspapers thrown, waved by the little slaves are filled with disquieting threats ; the surge of Asian slaves pointed to a star-shaped thrust by the Northern armies. Ecbatane linked by multiple alliances to countries coveted by the master of the North, slackly gets prepared for a war it deems imaginary, being too foreseeable and which it pushes away to some distant future ; the time of peace had taken the reality of a dream, Ecbatane, strong with its thousands of slaves, by them put to sleep, softened by the excessive use it made on them of its desires and its cruelties, reassured and stupefied by their flattery and their dangerous faithfulness, Ecbatane watches those newspapers and passes and withdraws in the autumn mist, knees suddenly pierced by their fear, amongst the crowd of its innocent slaves. -At dawn, while the State surrenders to the chief, Ierissos walking under the porch of the government palace, between the sleepy sentinels, looks up towards the second floor window, still lit up ; the chief appears, sees Ierissos, smiles, Ierissos kisses his fingers. After the deliberations, the chief drags the defunct government towards the canteen of the hospital adjacent to the ministry ; a slave serves them, Ierissos appears, the slave gives him a glass of scalding hot coffee, Ierissos takes it between his fingers, the steam soaks his face, he shakes his other hand, lifts the glass to his lips ; through the steam, he sees the face of the young slave, the top of her blouse wet with spatters of coffee and jam, the silver ring sealed into the upper lip, Bactriane comes behind him, strokes his shoulders ; in the shade of the door, young soldiers, head bandaged, pyjamas half- open, get out of their bed, drag themselves along to the vestibule, lean against the wall, call Bactriane, their forearms throwing off the bandages and the bloody dressings, uttering little soft moans, foam on their lips and cheeks covered with night scabs : dribble, tears, snot ; Bactriane returns to the corridor, she takes the young soldiers one by one and brings them back to bed ; Ierissos, drinking the glass of coffee, looks at the young slave, who is wiping the glasses, she lifts her lowered eyes, black, when the line of the glass hides Ierissos's eyes ; Ierissos gives back the glass, the young slave shakes the cloth, takes the glass, her fingers touch lightly the marks upon the glass of Ierissos's fingers ; above the table, a large photograph of the chief ; Ierissos watches the young slave ; she puts the glass, unwiped, inside the front pocket of her apron, Ierissos, turned towards the chief, listens to threats, regrets, fears, decisions of truces and defence tactics ; the young slave continues serving, Ierissos comes back to the place where he drank, he bends towards the slave, his fingers tremble over the icy tablecloth where weaving points of light sparkle like crystals~: +At dawn, while the State surrenders to the chief, Ierissos walking under the porch of the government palace, between the sleepy sentinels, looks up towards the second floor window, still lit up ; the chief appears, sees Ierissos, smiles, Ierissos kisses his fingers. After the deliberations, the chief drags the defunct government towards the canteen of the hospital adjacent to the ministry ; a slave serves them, Ierissos appears, the slave gives him a glass of scalding hot coffee, Ierissos takes it between his fingers, the steam soaks his face, he shakes his other hand, lifts the glass to his lips ; through the steam, he sees the face of the young slave, the top of her blouse wet with spatters of coffee and jam, the silver ring sealed into the upper lip, Bactriane comes behind him, strokes his shoulders ; in the shade of the door, young soldiers, head bandaged, pyjamas half-open, get out of their bed, drag themselves along to the vestibule, lean against the wall, call Bactriane, their forearms throwing off the bandages and the bloody dressings, uttering little soft moans, foam on their lips and cheeks covered with night scabs : dribble, tears, snot ; Bactriane returns to the corridor, she takes the young soldiers one by one and brings them back to bed ; Ierissos, drinking the glass of coffee, looks at the young slave, who is wiping the glasses, she lifts her lowered eyes, black, when the line of the glass hides Ierissos' eyes ; Ierissos gives back the glass, the young slave shakes the cloth, takes the glass, her fingers touch lightly the marks upon the glass of Ierissos' fingers ; above the table, a large photograph of the chief ; Ierissos watches the young slave ; she puts the glass, unwiped, inside the front pocket of her apron, Ierissos, turned towards the chief, listens to threats, regrets, fears, decisions of truces and defence tactics ; the young slave continues serving, Ierissos comes back to the place where he drank, he bends towards the slave, his fingers tremble over the icy tablecloth where weaving points of light sparkle like crystals~: --- What's your name~? @@ -319,7 +324,7 @@ He catches the slave's arm, he strokes it, up to the blouse's sleeve. --- Don't touch me ; tomorrow I will be sold to the widow of your former prince ; she has four hundred slaves in her houses and on her lands, eight hundred in her factories and her mines ; ten of them die every day, they are replaced on the spot. They say she is an ogress. She's buying me to devour me. -The diffused light of dawn drowns the neon light suspended to the ceiling. Faces are pale, eyes sealed, blood flows in the hands' veins ; Bactriane, in the corridor, is struggling in a wounded soldier's arms, she pulls him from the wall, he holds her shoulders, pulls her blouse with his bandaged fingers, moves his lips towards Bactriane's ; the other wounded soldiers, lying, sitting in the bloody semi-darkness of the room, groan, make the bones of their wrists crack, tear their bandages, laugh, open their pyjamas, take hold of their cock and laugh, eyes fixed on the wounded soldier who is embracing Bactriane ; Ierissos withdraws his hand from Mantinee's arm, rushes into the corridor, releases Bactriane, strikes the soldier in the face ; the lips of the wounded soldier tear, blood spatters Ierissos's wrist, the wounded soldier cries~: +The diffused light of dawn drowns the neon light suspended to the ceiling. Faces are pale, eyes sealed, blood flows in the hands' veins ; Bactriane, in the corridor, is struggling in a wounded soldier's arms, she pulls him from the wall, he holds her shoulders, pulls her blouse with his bandaged fingers, moves his lips towards Bactriane's ; the other wounded soldiers, lying, sitting in the bloody semi-darkness of the room, groan, make the bones of their wrists crack, tear their bandages, laugh, open their pyjamas, take hold of their cock and laugh, eyes fixed on the wounded soldier who is embracing Bactriane ; Ierissos withdraws his hand from Mantinee's arm, rushes into the corridor, releases Bactriane, strikes the soldier in the face ; the lips of the wounded soldier tear, blood spatters Ierissos' wrist, the wounded soldier cries~: --- Lieutenant, you're hitting the wounded. @@ -327,13 +332,13 @@ The diffused light of dawn drowns the neon light suspended to the ceiling. Faces The soldier, bending his head, pyjamas down to the middle of the buttocks, returns into the barrackroom, his hand covering his lips ; Ierissos wipes the blood with his handkerchief, leans on his elbows for a moment at the window ; the grey dawn climbs up the domes and the towers and the oriflammes of the palaces, priests walk along the terraces, their ass leather sandals are steeping in the icy water of the puddles ; leaves of their books open to the wind, come unstuck ; below, stopping, motionless in the spiral staircases, their little slaves are waiting for the end of the prayers, maniple on the wrist, the linen of the shorts and shirts shivering in the wind ; platoons appear suddenly at street corners, their rising capes flapping in the sharp air like a petrol fire ; groups of slaves, runaways or complainants, crowd at the palace gates, the platoons beat off, machine-gun, trample, knock down, the slaves scatter, run along the walls, the bursts of gunfire flatten them over the footpaths or throw them against the walls ; city trucks spray the streets ; the dead bodies, washed, hair divided by the stream, sparkle ; a bloody water flows between the paving stones, dies in a foam against the sidewalks ; garbage men load the bodies and drive them into the trucks' mouth, amongst the tepid ashes and the excrement. -The priests come down, apply their hands to the shoulders of the little slaves, with the maniples they wipe their foreheads drenched with cold sweat. The agony is ended ; their free hands slide on the stairs' hand rail ; doves soar over the balustrades, over the springboards, over the roofs of cast iron streaming with rain and dew and droppings ; sleepy crows search for their holes, bump into the jaws of the dragons, the breasts of the virgins, the antennas, the oriflammes ; rain sticks the shorts and the shirt of the little slaves to their torso and to their thighs ; Ierissos comes back to the canteen room, Mantinee gives a start, Ierissos touches her shoulder, Mantinee tilts her head to the side, her cheek, her eyelids brush Ierissos's palm, who raises his fingers to Mantinee's lips ; but the chief's glance, a gust of wind under the doors startles them, Mantinee looks down, recovers her linen on the tablecloth, props her belly, caught in the blouse, against the edge of the table, Ierissos brings his hand back to his chest, to the veins of his neck ; he catches up with the chief who is walking towards the door, the ministers draw aside, some of them look down on him~: +The priests come down, apply their hands to the shoulders of the little slaves, with the maniples they wipe their foreheads drenched with cold sweat. The agony is ended ; their free hands slide on the stairs' hand rail ; doves soar over the balustrades, over the springboards, over the roofs of cast iron streaming with rain and dew and droppings ; sleepy crows search for their holes, bump into the jaws of the dragons, the breasts of the virgins, the antennas, the oriflammes ; rain sticks the shorts and the shirt of the little slaves to their torso and to their thighs ; Ierissos comes back to the canteen room, Mantinee gives a start, Ierissos touches her shoulder, Mantinee tilts her head to the side, her cheek, her eyelids brush Ierissos' palm, who raises his fingers to Mantinee's lips ; but the chief's glance, a gust of wind under the doors startles them, Mantinee looks down, recovers her linen on the tablecloth, props her belly, caught in the blouse, against the edge of the table, Ierissos brings his hand back to his chest, to the veins of his neck ; he catches up with the chief who is walking towards the door, the ministers draw aside, some of them look down on him~: -Inside the car, next to the sleeping chief, his black hat tipped back over his forehead, Ierissos, collar turned back on the cheeks and on the ear lobes ; a little slave, a shred of canvas wrapped around the thighs, is squatting in the gutter of blood and cinders ; his hands dig into the gully hole ; he takes them out covered with blood up to the joint of the elbow, he raises them above his head and stares at Ierissos with his pale eyes studded with blood ; Ierissos places his wrist on the armrest, the child runs behind the car, his hands clasped over his close-cropped head ; the chief's hand touches Ierissos's thigh~: +Inside the car, next to the sleeping chief, his black hat tipped back over his forehead, Ierissos, collar turned back on the cheeks and on the ear lobes ; a little slave, a shred of canvas wrapped around the thighs, is squatting in the gutter of blood and cinders ; his hands dig into the gully hole ; he takes them out covered with blood up to the joint of the elbow, he raises them above his head and stares at Ierissos with his pale eyes studded with blood ; Ierissos places his wrist on the armrest, the child runs behind the car, his hands clasped over his close-cropped head ; the chief's hand touches Ierissos' thigh~: --- And nevertheless, that enemy, I've beaten him. -Ierissos turns his head, wipes the vapour on the back window ; the child is running, dancing, the blood streaming on his chest, covering the navel ; the driver sees him in the rearview mirror ; the chief falls asleep again, Ierissos looks at the driver's shiny nape, a cross is drawn there, half hidden under the scarf ; the car slows down, the child cvertakes it, his bloody hand trails along the window ; the driver opens his door, slams it, the child jumps on the footpath ; the driver speeds up, he sees the cross of blood on Ierissos's window, he throws the car straight at the child, who collapses, his leg caught, the right front wheel crushes his head, skids on the macadam ; the chief, woken up, holds with both hands the back of the front seat, a bit of foam is wetting his chin ; Ierissos opens the door, he springs forward, he squats down next to the child, pulls the head clear, the shoulderbones recede and come together around the top of the neck ; the car backs, the driver, his head buried in the sleeves of his coat, his untied scarf hanging from the steering wheel, is shaking : Ierissos takes the body in his arms and flees. +Ierissos turns his head, wipes the vapour on the back window ; the child is running, dancing, the blood streaming on his chest, covering the navel ; the driver sees him in the rearview mirror ; the chief falls asleep again, Ierissos looks at the driver's shiny nape, a cross is drawn there, half hidden under the scarf ; the car slows down, the child overtakes it, his bloody hand trails along the window ; the driver opens his door, slams it, the child jumps on the footpath ; the driver speeds up, he sees the cross of blood on Ierissos' window, he throws the car straight at the child, who collapses, his leg caught, the right front wheel crushes his head, skids on the macadam ; the chief, woken up, holds with both hands the back of the front seat, a bit of foam is wetting his chin ; Ierissos opens the door, he springs forward, he squats down next to the child, pulls the head clear, the shoulderbones recede and come together around the top of the neck ; the car backs, the driver, his head buried in the sleeves of his coat, his untied scarf hanging from the steering wheel, is shaking : Ierissos takes the body in his arms and flees. In the evening~: @@ -351,19 +356,19 @@ Ierissos comes in, he sees the slaves sitting down around the radio. A stroke of --- Tell him that I'm alone, that the weight of power fills me with awe, that the palace is swarming with assassins. -And the slave grabs Ierissos's penis, Ierissos steps back, pulls away the slave's hand clinging to the cloth of his uniform. +And the slave grabs Ierissos' penis, Ierissos steps back, pulls away the slave's hand clinging to the cloth of his uniform. Both slaves walk out. They return to Ecbatane, the one who touched Ierissos opens his hand under the chief's lips. -Ierissos, that afternoon, and until night, raises a secret army of slaves : one of them swims all the way to Buxtehude, he comes back, passes through the hail of bullets, collapses, dripping wet, on Ierissos's straw mattress ; in his closed hand, a crumpled sheet of paper covered with orders and promises of weapons. +Ierissos, that afternoon, and until night, raises a secret army of slaves : one of them swims all the way to Buxtehude, he comes back, passes through the hail of bullets, collapses, dripping wet, on Ierissos' straw mattress ; in his closed hand, a crumpled sheet of paper covered with orders and promises of weapons. Little by little, the slaves get organized into platoons : tanks are set on fire, armouries explode, the free young rebels are reluctant, at the beginning, to fight on the slaves' side, they complain, at night, lying in the temporary quarters, about the smell, the clumsiness, the boisterousness of those slaves of obscure and remote origin. Ierissos appears one evening in the chief's room, a valet is bending over the chief sitting at his illuminated desk, his wrist overlaid with State papers ; Ierissos steps forward, the chief half turns back on his seat, chases the valet away with a punch on the thigh, sits up straight again ; Ierissos comes closer, the chief takes his thigh~: -\noindent --- I know that you are in command of an army of children and of slaves. Take me with you, some night, into the barracks, so that I can watch them asleep, their weapon between the legs, their throat fluttering and their navel uncovered, their lips and cheeks smeared with fat and wine ; their chest restless and their cocks raised by the shapes and the voices of the reveries of somnolence. You here, the captain in Buxtehude, the two arteries of my crepuscular heart. I cover up for your parallel actions, and as soon as the war has ended, everywhere across the world, and the North defeated, and ravaged, you will sentence me. You leave me every time in order to rescue some slave from slow death. Now I give myself up to you. You live for me, within the light and the tumult in which I cannot plunge my hands. Hardly do you allow me to drink on your cheeks and on your hands the sweat from your deeds. I was born to liberate, not to falsify the lists of hostages, day after day. They impose Northern valets on me ; they turn out my socks, their spies laugh behind the doors when I squat down on my pan. You smell of slave. Do they obey you ? This morning I watched one who was working on the palace roof, he was pulling with his fingers a cast-iron gutter, blood was pouring from his hands on the torn iron ; getting up, he looked at some smoke coming out of the chimney against which he was leaning his back and drowning in the light ; he saw my gaze, he looked down ; the sharp wind was swelling his shirt ; he looks up, his eyes are bathed in blood, in morning dew ; I refrained from pushing him into the void, like a pebble. Are you staying here the whole night~? +--- I know that you are in command of an army of children and of slaves. Take me with you, some night, into the barracks, so that I can watch them asleep, their weapon between the legs, their throat fluttering and their navel uncovered, their lips and cheeks smeared with fat and wine ; their chest restless and their cocks raised by the shapes and the voices of the reveries of somnolence. You here, the captain in Buxtehude, the two arteries of my crepuscular heart. I cover up for your parallel actions, and as soon as the war has ended, everywhere across the world, and the North defeated, and ravaged, you will sentence me. You leave me every time in order to rescue some slave from slow death. Now I give myself up to you. You live for me, within the light and the tumult in which I cannot plunge my hands. Hardly do you allow me to drink on your cheeks and on your hands the sweat from your deeds. I was born to liberate, not to falsify the lists of hostages, day after day. They impose Northern valets on me ; they turn out my socks, their spies laugh behind the doors when I squat down on my pan. You smell of slave. Do they obey you~? This morning I watched one who was working on the palace roof, he was pulling with his fingers a cast-iron gutter, blood was pouring from his hands on the torn iron ; getting up, he looked at some smoke coming out of the chimney against which he was leaning his back and drowning in the light ; he saw my gaze, he looked down ; the sharp wind was swelling his shirt ; he looks up, his eyes are bathed in blood, in morning dew ; I refrained from pushing him into the void, like a pebble. Are you staying here the whole night~? -He closes his hands on Ierissos's ear~: +He closes his hands on Ierissos' ear~: --- My legs are getting weak, I don't have the strength anymore to make them hard against the washbasin. @@ -371,21 +376,21 @@ The valet prepares the bedside table : the phials, the sachets, the syringes, th --- Alone, I know how to resist the enemy, but my government at night or during my nap, signs provisional treaties which I am obliged to endorse. In this room, where I replan my battles, neither of those, enemies from the outside, enemies from the inside, can enter. I have a dog, given to me by peasants whose herds and tools I blessed, I stick little messages under his belly ; one day, I shall let him loose, the orders shall be issued, I too shall have blown up trains and bridges. See this dog, the peasants wanted to offer me a bitch, I asked for a male. Chto. At night I wake him up, I catch, still lying, his snout between my fists, his eyes glow, his belly which I press keeps my secret, his tongue softens my wrist, my lips. It is Ecbatane looking at me and quivering under my hand, eager for freedom. -He sits down beside Ierissos, he draws him towards his knees ; a patrol, in the street, passes with a noise of shingle stirred by the surf. Ierissos strokes the old man's cheek, rolling in his fingers the white locks, through which the blood flushes under the lips, his nails stop at the eyelids where there gleams, loosened, the blue gaze with double iris ; the chief's hand plunges between the thighs of Ierissos who dozes off, softened by the fire, the fragrance and the glimmer of the flasks, his head rolling over the back of the seat ; the chief's hand, plunged deep to the wrist, kneads the young sleeping flesh, the fingers unbutton, pull the underpants, hold them open, slide upon the locks of hair ; the other hand grasps an envelope, rolls it and lays it against Ierissos's penis. On waking, the old man growls in his bed, his hair spread out on the pillow, the valet bending over him, opens both his hands upon his neck ; Ierissos springs forward, knocks the valet down on his back, the chief growls and rolls aside. Ierissos tramples the throat of the valet lying on the bedside rug, then, he leaves the room, runs down the staircase, under the portal, rain lashes against his forehead and his hands ; he walks through Ecbatane, jostles with enemy placards, with empty dustbins where cats are mating, he walks down towards the estuary ; on the roofs of the river Rescue barges, huge cats leap, their fur wet with semen and rain, they rub their backs against the tarpaulins, against the naked legs of the watermen ; he walks up towards the enemy headquarters, stops against the wall supporting the balcony of the Ecbatane prince's widow, listens to the screams of slaves and the breath of furnaces, under his feet through the kitchen's basement windows ; opposite, in the jumble of terraces, platforms, chimneys, gable ends, there the turrets, windows, half open skylights, clouded, stretched out, cluttered with uniforms, shirts, vests, handkerchieves, socks put out to dry, are hiding the heavy and restless sleep of enemy soldiers and officers. +He sits down beside Ierissos, he draws him towards his knees ; a patrol, in the street, passes with a noise of shingle stirred by the surf. Ierissos strokes the old man's cheek, rolling in his fingers the white locks, through which the blood flushes under the lips, his nails stop at the eyelids where there gleams, loosened, the blue gaze with double iris ; the chief's hand plunges between the thighs of Ierissos who dozes off, softened by the fire, the fragrance and the glimmer of the flasks, his head rolling over the back of the seat ; the chief's hand, plunged deep to the wrist, kneads the young sleeping flesh, the fingers unbutton, pull the underpants, hold them open, slide upon the locks of hair ; the other hand grasps an envelope, rolls it and lays it against Ierissos' penis. On waking, the old man growls in his bed, his hair spread out on the pillow, the valet bending over him, opens both his hands upon his neck ; Ierissos springs forward, knocks the valet down on his back, the chief growls and rolls aside. Ierissos tramples the throat of the valet lying on the bedside rug, then, he leaves the room, runs down the staircase, under the portal, rain lashes against his forehead and his hands ; he walks through Ecbatane, jostles with enemy placards, with empty dustbins where cats are mating, he walks down towards the estuary ; on the roofs of the river Rescue barges, huge cats leap, their fur wet with semen and rain, they rub their backs against the tarpaulins, against the naked legs of the watermen ; he walks up towards the enemy headquarters, stops against the wall supporting the balcony of the Ecbatane prince's widow, listens to the screams of slaves and the breath of furnaces, under his feet through the kitchen's basement windows ; opposite, in the jumble of terraces, platforms, chimneys, gable ends, there the turrets, windows, half open skylights, clouded, stretched out, cluttered with uniforms, shirts, vests, handkerchieves, socks put out to dry, are hiding the heavy and restless sleep of enemy soldiers and officers. Two women are slowly walking from the bottom of the street where the gall and blood of fish are trickling between the paving stones ; a blue parasol, darkened and distended by the rain ; they pass in front of Ierissos~: ---- You ? Come to the Palace, we will have lunch together. You~? +--- You~? Come to the Palace, we will have lunch together. You~? --- Yes, your Highness. -The two veiled women go before Ierissos into the small staircase ; the fingers on the hand rail, intertwine with the roses ; one of the women turns her head, a rose gets caught in her hair on the temple ; the hand of the princess holds the hand of the young woman, squeezes the phalanxes, bends back the nails, stretches the skin, pinches the veins ; Ierissos touches the hip of the young woman above him ; on the top of the stairs, two slaves leaning against the dripping stones, are closing their shirts ; rain is running along the muscles of their necks : \speech{To bed, now}, pricking their chest with the tip of the folded umbrella ; the slaves move on, both women enier a verandah, fifteen meters high ; the pillars are of bronze, the panes of glass painted at mid-height ; two fir trees planted in two stone jars rise up to the dome topped by chimes ; in the intertwined branches, Ierissos sees broken toys, shreds of shorts and shirts, straps, tommy gun magazines, teeth necklaces ; at once, a multitude of slaves, men and women, boys and girls, spring into the verandah, arms filled with flowers, fruits, cold meats~: +The two veiled women go before Ierissos into the small staircase ; the fingers on the hand rail, intertwine with the roses ; one of the women turns her head, a rose gets caught in her hair on the temple ; the hand of the princess holds the hand of the young woman, squeezes the phalanxes, bends back the nails, stretches the skin, pinches the veins ; Ierissos touches the hip of the young woman above him ; on the top of the stairs, two slaves leaning against the dripping stones, are closing their shirts ; rain is running along the muscles of their necks : \speech{To bed, now}, pricking their chest with the tip of the folded umbrella ; the slaves move on, both women enter a veranda, fifteen meters high ; the pillars are of bronze, the panes of glass painted at mid-height ; two fir trees planted in two stone jars rise up to the dome topped by chimes ; in the intertwined branches, Ierissos sees broken toys, shreds of shorts and shirts, straps, tommy gun magazines, teeth necklaces ; at once, a multitude of slaves, men and women, boys and girls, spring into the veranda, arms filled with flowers, fruits, cold meats~: ---- Today I am receiving for lunch the field officers and princes of the occupying Army. I want to show them the riches of Ecbatane. The chief did not accept to take part in the banquet, he prefers his stew and his mineral water. Are you staying here for the day, Ierissos ? All those slaves annoy me with their smell. Those fir trees, the Prince would bring them back to me from a Northern forest, with their birds and their squirrels caught in the net. You were just born. The war was made by rats. A bubble of mud, a dead man. The Prince threw himself in my arms, upon his eyebrows were running the insects of the Night, on his forehead I fondle the mark of his driving cap's peak. All the slaves have died at war ; then, winter dispatching the wounded and the madmen back to their homes, the gates of the palaces and the villas open up. Every night I dance, and by day, on the phone, joyous under the furs of my bed, I make my lovers suffer. The prince nails his butterflies. We live in peace with the republic. Sit down. I'm coming back. +--- Today I am receiving for lunch the field officers and princes of the occupying Army. I want to show them the riches of Ecbatane. The chief did not accept to take part in the banquet, he prefers his stew and his mineral water. Are you staying here for the day, Ierissos~? All those slaves annoy me with their smell. Those fir trees, the Prince would bring them back to me from a Northern forest, with their birds and their squirrels caught in the net. You were just born. The war was made by rats. A bubble of mud, a dead man. The Prince threw himself in my arms, upon his eyebrows were running the insects of the Night, on his forehead I fondle the mark of his driving cap's peak. All the slaves have died at war ; then, winter dispatching the wounded and the madmen back to their homes, the gates of the palaces and the villas open up. Every night I dance, and by day, on the phone, joyous under the furs of my bed, I make my lovers suffer. The prince nails his butterflies. We live in peace with the republic. Sit down. I'm coming back. She walks out, the young woman sits down, all dressed, on a sofa, head resting against a vase filled with putrefying water~: ---- Mantinee, I know her, are you unhappy ? She had a thousand lovers from all sides of the world, blackened her body for the negro, freed her breasts\ldots +--- Mantinee, I know her, are you unhappy~? She had a thousand lovers from all sides of the world, blackened her body for the negro, freed her breasts\ldots --- At night, her jewels knock against my teeth. All the slaves are jealous of me, their eyes glare when I pass, their muscles, their bones recover their place, their blood is boiling. They drive nails between the floor planks. Ignored by the free men, hated by the slaves, in every room a bell can summon me to her bedside ; against every tree, at the wire nettings of the ponds. Then, the slaves push out their heads, spit at my feet ; with the wind, the spittle spurts back on their cheeks ; they scrape the earth, rub their genitals, throw crowns of paper at my feet. Bending over her I try to control my sadness, but she sees my skin quiver under my eyes, she rises on her elbow, she takes my chin in her hand, the needle of her chignon gets caught to the pillow ; her hand comes up to my eyes, I close them, I want to love her, I fondle her wrist against my cheek, she smiles, her hand comes down upon my throat, I push it back gently. @@ -399,13 +404,13 @@ The slave remains still, the unfolded sheet on her arms, I get up, I catch her b --- Turn her, twist her arm. -I turn the slave's arm, the princess catches the slit with her teeth, nibbles the flesh, the slave, sitting at the edge of the bed, her dress sunken between her thighs, her hands clasped over the navel, her neck squeezed by the princess's wrist, looks at me ; the princess's foam wets the shoulder, the dress's cloth in the back and above the breasts ; then the teeth bite, the slave brings her shoulder back against her cheek, her hair spread over the sheets, blood spurts on the princess's gums; the slave's belly, tense, grows hollow, her hands open, move up along the chest ; the princess throws the upper part of the slave's body against her breasts, still biting the shoulder, her teeth clenched under the muscle and pulling it like the string of a bow, the slave bites her lips, her head falls backward uncovering the breasts bathed in sweat and pink blood ; she screams, her hands rush forward then bend back over her belly, the uncovered knees shine, wet with sweat running down the legs, to the feet ; the dress sticks to the body, swells at the places that remained dry ; I stroke the princess's brow, her eyebrows spattered with blood, her eyelids, the princess unclenches her teeth, she releases the slave's neck, she tilts her head back on the pillow, the pink sweat wets the pillow against the cheeks and the hair ; the slave remains sitting at the edge of the bed, I take her by the head, lift her up, my hands slip on the soaked, gluey dress, the slave covers her wound with her hand, sits up, I push her towards the door ; she leans her back to the wall, her shoulder above a vase full of green water and filaments of rotted flowers ; I go back towards the bed, I pick up the sheet, I fold it, I bring it to the slave, the blood from the wound streams on the vase's rim, flows down, touches the water, veils it with scarlet ; I lay the sheet upon the slave's able arm, I open the door, I drag the slave into the corridor then abandon her ; at the moment when I pass through the door again, she attacks me, bites my arm, holds it clenched between her broken teeth ; I cover my mouth, the tears spurt down on my wrist, roll along my nostrils ; the slave unclenches her teeth, spits my blood and flees, the unrolled sheet dragging behind upon the carpet. +I turn the slave's arm, the princess catches the slit with her teeth, nibbles the flesh, the slave, sitting at the edge of the bed, her dress sunken between her thighs, her hands clasped over the navel, her neck squeezed by the princess' wrist, looks at me ; the princess' foam wets the shoulder, the dress' cloth in the back and above the breasts ; then the teeth bite, the slave brings her shoulder back against her cheek, her hair spread over the sheets, blood spurts on the princess' gums; the slave's belly, tense, grows hollow, her hands open, move up along the chest ; the princess throws the upper part of the slave's body against her breasts, still biting the shoulder, her teeth clenched under the muscle and pulling it like the string of a bow, the slave bites her lips, her head falls backward uncovering the breasts bathed in sweat and pink blood ; she screams, her hands rush forward then bend back over her belly, the uncovered knees shine, wet with sweat running down the legs, to the feet ; the dress sticks to the body, swells at the places that remained dry ; I stroke the princess' brow, her eyebrows spattered with blood, her eyelids, the princess unclenches her teeth, she releases the slave's neck, she tilts her head back on the pillow, the pink sweat wets the pillow against the cheeks and the hair ; the slave remains sitting at the edge of the bed, I take her by the head, lift her up, my hands slip on the soaked, gluey dress, the slave covers her wound with her hand, sits up, I push her towards the door ; she leans her back to the wall, her shoulder above a vase full of green water and filaments of rotted flowers ; I go back towards the bed, I pick up the sheet, I fold it, I bring it to the slave, the blood from the wound streams on the vase's rim, flows down, touches the water, veils it with scarlet ; I lay the sheet upon the slave's able arm, I open the door, I drag the slave into the corridor then abandon her ; at the moment when I pass through the door again, she attacks me, bites my arm, holds it clenched between her broken teeth ; I cover my mouth, the tears spurt down on my wrist, roll along my nostrils ; the slave unclenches her teeth, spits my blood and flees, the unrolled sheet dragging behind upon the carpet. When again I bend over the princess, she smells, she sees the blood on my arm, she catches my wrist, she pulls it, she puts her lips on the wound, sucks up the blood while drawing the flesh apart with her tongue and her teeth ; I lie down by her side, she continues to suck the wound, the slave's dried-up blood crumbles on her eyelids, her eyes are closed, her head tilted on the pillow ; my blood is running inside her chest, mixing with hers ; I want it back ; she loves that slave blood ; men too, the blood and the semen from the slaves ; slaves, the loss of our blood and of our semen, dispossesses us, tears us away for a while, from our condition of slave ; they fecundate, they revive a free body, for us a thing unknown. You, free men, you love to drink the blood, and receive the semen of the slaves ; then, penetrated to the very bottom of the soul, by an ancient fire : liberty through submission to the forces of heaven, shivering, chilled by your solitude, to those slaves lying against you insensitive to the forces of earth, inside their flank, you inject your poisonous semen ; or else, for fun, and you make us die, we who are already dead. -The princess returns, sits next to Ierissos ; the slaves run ; some of them, their hair, shoulders and knees streaming, stand leaning against the wall, uncork bottles stuck between their thighs, shorts spattered with wine and wax ; women are laying the table, their children hanging to their blouses ; A young slave, arms filled with bottles and flasks of hydromel, pushes with his foot the door of the verandah looking onto the wine cellar's yard, his knees over which the breeches are tucked up, are bleeding, the rain veils the blood ; the princess, whose hand is resting on Ierissos's thigh and whose hair touches the young man's, sees the bloody knees, she quivers, she stiffens her finger pointing at the ground, the slave comes forward ; the princess catches his leg, he loses balance, the bottles shatter on the tiled floor, the flying glass wounds the naked legs of the small children ; the slave standing, hands open on his hips, bends his head, the princess pulls at the leg from behind the knee, the slave advances further, the princess throws her mouth on the wound, nibbles the bone, licks the blood on the leg, lifts the foot to her lips, licks the blood gathered on the toe ; the slave, standing on one toe, holds to the back of the sofa ; the princess's hands envelop his foot. +The princess returns, sits next to Ierissos ; the slaves run ; some of them, their hair, shoulders and knees streaming, stand leaning against the wall, uncork bottles stuck between their thighs, shorts spattered with wine and wax ; women are laying the table, their children hanging to their blouses ; A young slave, arms filled with bottles and flasks of hydromel, pushes with his foot the door of the veranda looking onto the wine cellar's yard, his knees over which the breeches are tucked up, are bleeding, the rain veils the blood ; the princess, whose hand is resting on Ierissos' thigh and whose hair touches the young man's, sees the bloody knees, she quivers, she stiffens her finger pointing at the ground, the slave comes forward ; the princess catches his leg, he loses balance, the bottles shatter on the tiled floor, the flying glass wounds the naked legs of the small children ; the slave standing, hands open on his hips, bends his head, the princess pulls at the leg from behind the knee, the slave advances further, the princess throws her mouth on the wound, nibbles the bone, licks the blood on the leg, lifts the foot to her lips, licks the blood gathered on the toe ; the slave, standing on one toe, holds to the back of the sofa ; the princess' hands envelop his foot. -Ierissos stays silent, bending over Mantinee and stroking her hair. The slaves pick up the shattered bottles, cutting hand and foot ; wine runs as far as the sofa, the princess lifts her feet, a slave girl throws on the tiles a large floorcloth ; seagulls stopped under the domes' carillons, shake their wings over the glass roof ; the princess releases the foot of the slave, who, his leg washed, the wound on his knee softened by the princess's saliva, moves back towards the tables ; the princess turns towards Ierissos her bloody face, half opens her mouth weltering in blood, a pink saliva foams upon her gums~: +Ierissos stays silent, bending over Mantinee and stroking her hair. The slaves pick up the shattered bottles, cutting hand and foot ; wine runs as far as the sofa, the princess lifts her feet, a slave girl throws on the tiles a large floorcloth ; seagulls stopped under the domes' carillons, shake their wings over the glass roof ; the princess releases the foot of the slave, who, his leg washed, the wound on his knee softened by the princess' saliva, moves back towards the tables ; the princess turns towards Ierissos her bloody face, half opens her mouth weltering in blood, a pink saliva foams upon her gums~: --- As you see, blood, even the vilest, stifles my melancholy. When their blood spurts no more, when they wander, in the Palace, in the gardens, again it grips me, it shatters my bones, I get up, I follow the slaves, I disturb their works so that they hurt themselves ; I give a small knife to a squatting child, a needle or scissors to a little girl sitting at my feet. Animals' blood fills me with horror. @@ -415,27 +420,27 @@ Back inside the Palace, I go to bed and close my mouth over the blood I drank, u At noon, the princess lying inside her room, and Ierissos and Mantinee chasing each other across the Palace's attics, the field officers get out of their private cars, crowd inside the terrace's small staircase, their drivers sprawl on the front seat, light cigarettes, take bottles and fruits out of their pockets, remove their cap, put on the radio, whistle at girls, free or slaves alike, stand up on the seat and unbutton themselves as they pass. -Ierissos, forehead veiled with cobwebs, hands thrown forward, falls over Mantinee buried inside a basket filled with old shawls ; he lies upon her, tears the shawls covering her up, takes her mouth, weighs his belly down on her thighs ; their salivas wet the shreds of the shawls, the loops of the shawls get caught in their teeth ; Ierissos presses his lips and, underneath, his jaw where two teeth are broken --- a fall, long ago on the stones, as a child, in front of the chief who tried to catch him --- upon Mantinee's chest ; with the teeth, he unbuttons the top of the dress, nibbles the breasts, to the nipples, on which he spits slightly and shakes his powdery hair ; then, moving back and squatting, he tucks up the dress, both his hands covering the belly and the navel, and lowers his face towards the cunt which he licks, his lips trembling on the top of the fur, Mantinee's knees squeezing Ierissos's shoulders, her arms unfolded along her body, in her opened hands sweat sparkles, like stars, among the folds. +Ierissos, forehead veiled with cobwebs, hands thrown forward, falls over Mantinee buried inside a basket filled with old shawls ; he lies upon her, tears the shawls covering her up, takes her mouth, weighs his belly down on her thighs ; their salivas wet the shreds of the shawls, the loops of the shawls get caught in their teeth ; Ierissos presses his lips and, underneath, his jaw where two teeth are broken --- a fall, long ago on the stones, as a child, in front of the chief who tried to catch him --- upon Mantinee's chest ; with the teeth, he unbuttons the top of the dress, nibbles the breasts, to the nipples, on which he spits slightly and shakes his powdery hair ; then, moving back and squatting, he tucks up the dress, both his hands covering the belly and the navel, and lowers his face towards the cunt which he licks, his lips trembling on the top of the fur, Mantinee's knees squeezing Ierissos' shoulders, her arms unfolded along her body, in her opened hands sweat sparkles, like stars, among the folds. In the middle of the banquet, a field officer, by clumsiness, overturns a sauceboat on the head of a small slave squatting by his feet and holding his mother's dress ; the mother, gripping the sauceboat in her fist, squats down, wipes the sauce on the child's head with a tail of her blouse, the child, lying on his back, is panting, his eyelids burnt, eyes covered with sauce, mouth shut, chokes ; his raised knees retract, his hands open against his hips, the slave, silent, but her cheeks bathed in tears, lifts her child in her arms, throws the sauceboat on the table, and runs to the vestibule ; the princess, weakened, her forehead glowing, watches the fir trees~: --- This child is going to die ; his father, born from a whore, the prince pulled him out, when still a child, of the brothel where he lived, naked all day, blood and bones injected with gall, limbs weakened by constant twisting and forced somnolence ; in the palace, in spite of his diseases, he bewitches all the girls and all the women ; his hovel, inside the kennels, resounds till dawn with their screams and their laughter ; he is a good stud. -A slave, arriving from the kitchens, bends and whispers in the princess's ear: +A slave, arriving from the kitchens, bends and whispers in the princess' ear: --- Well then, bring his things and throw them in the fir tree. The slave leaves then comes back, he holds in his arms the little slave's playsuit and his toys : a boat made of bark and a top ; the princess fondles them~: ---- It smeils of milk. Horror for me, the blood drinker. +--- It smells of milk. Horror for me, the blood drinker. And the slave throws them in the fir tree. Mantinee, standing behind the princess, watches Ierissos whose fingers are trembling over a half eaten quail's head ; Ierissos looks up, smiles, his teeth grind the head, the eye sockets, the skull, the cheeks ; the princess sees Ierissos smile to Mantinee, she continues to speak to the field officer facing her, but in the evening, when Ierissos has gone back to Leuctres, she throws herself on Mantinee, she hits her with her fists and tramples her on the tiled floor ; then, seeing her injured, beaten up, unconscious, she drinks the blood wherever it spurts and covers the body with her hands, her tears, her hair. -At dawn, alone she goes to drink the blood, along the footpaths ; she prowls around the slaughterhouses, not to watch the blood of the beasts, but only to see if those who kill them hurt themselves with their knives ; then, she crosses the paved yards, her dress trails in the blood, swells around her loins, in the sharp wind, catches a heap of severed heads : sheep, pigs, calves, horses, the heads collapse, rats come out of them, their fur bloody ; the princess whose knees are weakening, pulls her dress, gets her foot caught in a rail ; young men, leaning against a tip wagon, are cutting, against their chest, sweetcorn pancakes ; the princess watches the knife cut through the bread and stop on the thumb ; she enters the central building, the animals' cries make the windows shake ; the princess makes her way between the tip wagons ; the apprentices walk in the pools of blood, pat their bloody hair ; one of them bears on his cheek the mark of a kid's foot ; on the tiling water gushes out from under the cubicles' dividing walls, carries shreds and shit ; two apprentices are fighting under the meat hooks, shaken, the hooks jingle ; the princess lifts the curtains of the cubicles where apprentices, under the command of the master butcher, stripped to the waist, apron sliding on the thighs, hold back the beasts and slit their throats, their hair shaking under the neon and the beasts' horns hooked to the navel. The princess, her forehead wet with pink sweat, holds the curtain lifted ; the apprentices' muscles spring up ; boys' legs against horses' legs ; apprentice masters clumsily butcher a horse, the horse's tongue winds around the apprentice's wrist ; the horse presses its front leg's hoof on the apprentice's thigh, the hoof tucks up and stretches the shorts as far as the lower part of the belly, uncovering part of the hair and the apprentice's cock, while he, bending over the horse, turns the knife in the throat, the other hand hooked to the fuming nostrils. Then he pulls the knife out of the horse's throat ; a kick of the horse pushes the knife, gripped in the fist, against the thigh ; the blade slides to the root of the cock uncovered by the horse's hoof, slashes under the hair ; the blood spurts on the black locks ; the apprentice, his hand still holding the knife, strokes with his thumb the bloody hair ; the princess has dashed forward, jostles the apprentices and the master butcher, squats down against the apprentice's leg, takes it, her hands move up to the thigh, her lips settle upon the hem of the shorts, her teeth bump into the horse's hoof, her tongue burrows into the mass of hair and blood, at the root of the cock, her throat throbs against the hoof, her turned-up lips, consumed, sparkle ; the apprentice, motionless, gazing vacantly, the knife held tight above the princess's hair, moves his lips, his nostrils are quivering, sweat veils his eyes, sticks his eyebrows together ; the muscles of his leg and of his thighs are bulging ; the princess draws the blood, the apprentice's locks enter her nostrils, her right eye is closed on the shorts, the other eye watches the veiled eye of the dying horse. +At dawn, alone she goes to drink the blood, along the footpaths ; she prowls around the slaughterhouses, not to watch the blood of the beasts, but only to see if those who kill them hurt themselves with their knives ; then, she crosses the paved yards, her dress trails in the blood, swells around her loins, in the sharp wind, catches a heap of severed heads : sheep, pigs, calves, horses, the heads collapse, rats come out of them, their fur bloody ; the princess whose knees are weakening, pulls her dress, gets her foot caught in a rail ; young men, leaning against a tip wagon, are cutting, against their chest, sweetcorn pancakes ; the princess watches the knife cut through the bread and stop on the thumb ; she enters the central building, the animals' cries make the windows shake ; the princess makes her way between the tip wagons ; the apprentices walk in the pools of blood, pat their bloody hair ; one of them bears on his cheek the mark of a kid's foot ; on the tiling water gushes out from under the cubicles' dividing walls, carries shreds and shit ; two apprentices are fighting under the meat hooks, shaken, the hooks jingle ; the princess lifts the curtains of the cubicles where apprentices, under the command of the master butcher, stripped to the waist, apron sliding on the thighs, hold back the beasts and slit their throats, their hair shaking under the neon and the beasts' horns hooked to the navel. The princess, her forehead wet with pink sweat, holds the curtain lifted ; the apprentices' muscles spring up ; boys' legs against horses' legs ; apprentice masters clumsily butcher a horse, the horse's tongue winds around the apprentice's wrist ; the horse presses its front leg's hoof on the apprentice's thigh, the hoof tucks up and stretches the shorts as far as the lower part of the belly, uncovering part of the hair and the apprentice's cock, while he, bending over the horse, turns the knife in the throat, the other hand hooked to the fuming nostrils. Then he pulls the knife out of the horse's throat ; a kick of the horse pushes the knife, gripped in the fist, against the thigh ; the blade slides to the root of the cock uncovered by the horse's hoof, slashes under the hair ; the blood spurts on the black locks ; the apprentice, his hand still holding the knife, strokes with his thumb the bloody hair ; the princess has dashed forward, jostles the apprentices and the master butcher, squats down against the apprentice's leg, takes it, her hands move up to the thigh, her lips settle upon the hem of the shorts, her teeth bump into the horse's hoof, her tongue burrows into the mass of hair and blood, at the root of the cock, her throat throbs against the hoof, her turned-up lips, consumed, sparkle ; the apprentice, motionless, gazing vacantly, the knife held tight above the princess' hair, moves his lips, his nostrils are quivering, sweat veils his eyes, sticks his eyebrows together ; the muscles of his leg and of his thighs are bulging ; the princess draws the blood, the apprentice's locks enter her nostrils, her right eye is closed on the shorts, the other eye watches the veiled eye of the dying horse. -The master butcher, leaning against the cubicle's dividing wall, his apprentices standing in a circle around him, their knives pressed to their hips ; the apprentice held by the princess at the knee and at the buttock, lets his knife rest upon the princess's hair, which he begins to stroke at the temples then at the shoulders, he takes the hair in his hand, makes it roll on his wrist, his nails claw the princess's bared temples, while she, her thighs moving apart under the dress, and her cunt-lips covered with semen, squeezes the apprentice's buttock and knee, and nibbles at the root of the cock, her tongue covering the small cut where blood comes no more ; the apprentice's cock hardens, grows taut, rises against the princess's nostrils, but rounding her tongue inside her mouth filled by blood, she stands up again, her hands sliding along the apprentice's hips ; she wipes her lips with the palm of her hand, glances at the apprentices and escapes from the cubicle ; the apprentice grips the knife in his fists, he bends over the horse whose legs are stirring on the tiles, he strikes its head up with his fist, thrusts the knife inside the throat next to the first wound, the horse shakes its head, its back trembling under the apprentice's bare foot ; blood spurts into the apprentice's eye, streams on his cheeks, on his throat, on his belly, under the shorts, down to the knees. Two squatting apprentices maintain the horse's legs ; the master butcher takes a lead sledgehammer from an angle of the cubicle, lifts it ; the apprentice steps away, the mass of lead falls upon the horse's head ; its legs shaking between the apprentices' fists, it growls, its eyes close, its nostrils fume above the wounds of the throat ; its mouth half opens, blood mixed with foam gushes cut from between the teeth, runs into the nostrils. +The master butcher, leaning against the cubicle's dividing wall, his apprentices standing in a circle around him, their knives pressed to their hips ; the apprentice held by the princess at the knee and at the buttock, lets his knife rest upon the princess' hair, which he begins to stroke at the temples then at the shoulders, he takes the hair in his hand, makes it roll on his wrist, his nails claw the princess' bared temples, while she, her thighs moving apart under the dress, and her cunt-lips covered with semen, squeezes the apprentice's buttock and knee, and nibbles at the root of the cock, her tongue covering the small cut where blood comes no more ; the apprentice's cock hardens, grows taut, rises against the princess' nostrils, but rounding her tongue inside her mouth filled by blood, she stands up again, her hands sliding along the apprentice's hips ; she wipes her lips with the palm of her hand, glances at the apprentices and escapes from the cubicle ; the apprentice grips the knife in his fists, he bends over the horse whose legs are stirring on the tiles, he strikes its head up with his fist, thrusts the knife inside the throat next to the first wound, the horse shakes its head, its back trembling under the apprentice's bare foot ; blood spurts into the apprentice's eye, streams on his cheeks, on his throat, on his belly, under the shorts, down to the knees. Two squatting apprentices maintain the horse's legs ; the master butcher takes a lead sledgehammer from an angle of the cubicle, lifts it ; the apprentice steps away, the mass of lead falls upon the horse's head ; its legs shaking between the apprentices' fists, it growls, its eyes close, its nostrils fume above the wounds of the throat ; its mouth half opens, blood mixed with foam gushes cut from between the teeth, runs into the nostrils. The princess, her dress stained, runs along the walls, the wagtails fly out of the downy holes, shake their wings against her hair or her cheeks ; the sentries bending at the edges of the walls, chest leaning against the granite, scratch it with the point of their knives ; the princess looks up. A sentry is asleep, helmet pulling his head on the granite, his mouth swollen by sleep, blowing off the quartz dust ; the princess strides over a pile of seaweed from which a little arm sticks out, eaten by worms ; the dress sweeps the seaweed along, half uncovering a child's body, naked and marked by tanks' caterpillars ; a rat, out from under the body, grapples on to the bottom of the dress, biting the hem ; another one rolls inside a tin, then he jumps onto the child's belly, scampers as far as the throat, leaving on the white chest a trail of rust. @@ -461,7 +466,7 @@ The old woman turns back, picks up a piece of iron, throws it in the loins of th --- Your Highness, the blood turns sour, the child is dying. -She looks up, her lips come unstuck from those of the child, her hand which gripped the throat to hold and throw back the blood into the mouth, relaxes, rises, opens ; on the princess's cheeks, on her lips, the mark of the child's lips and teeth ; the princess holds out her arms to the slaves, they support her, her hands cling to their shoulders, and redden them with blood ; the old hag, crouching on her crate, now gets up, walks to the bed, pulls the child from under the slat, and lays him down on the rubbish ; the rats, at once, leap on the body, move its head, its wrists and its penis ; one of them, burrowing its head in the child's mouth, nibbles his teeth ; the child growls, the rat starts and comes out from the mouth again, its claws buried in the nostrils ; once the old woman has killed and eaten all the rats, she drags the body into the fire, head tilted to the side, pulling the embers ; the child, whose chin and throat are burning, his knees move upwards, then his rattle wheezes through the teeth, a spurt of blood comes out of his mouth, immediately grilled by the flame and the head rolls on the purple ember ; the old woman turns the body over, picks up the embers with a piece of shovel and throws it over the body ; cooked, she pulls the feet, spreads the legs and, her breath stirring up the ash on the thighs, she snatches the penis and gobbles it up, raising her arms. +She looks up, her lips come unstuck from those of the child, her hand which gripped the throat to hold and throw back the blood into the mouth, relaxes, rises, opens ; on the princess' cheeks, on her lips, the mark of the child's lips and teeth ; the princess holds out her arms to the slaves, they support her, her hands cling to their shoulders, and redden them with blood ; the old hag, crouching on her crate, now gets up, walks to the bed, pulls the child from under the slat, and lays him down on the rubbish ; the rats, at once, leap on the body, move its head, its wrists and its penis ; one of them, burrowing its head in the child's mouth, nibbles his teeth ; the child growls, the rat starts and comes out from the mouth again, its claws buried in the nostrils ; once the old woman has killed and eaten all the rats, she drags the body into the fire, head tilted to the side, pulling the embers ; the child, whose chin and throat are burning, his knees move upwards, then his rattle wheezes through the teeth, a spurt of blood comes out of his mouth, immediately grilled by the flame and the head rolls on the purple ember ; the old woman turns the body over, picks up the embers with a piece of shovel and throws it over the body ; cooked, she pulls the feet, spreads the legs and, her breath stirring up the ash on the thighs, she snatches the penis and gobbles it up, raising her arms. The princess, lying on her bed, her brow hit by the rays filtering through the closed shutters, she smacks her lips ; Mantinee, squatting at her side, shuts her nostrils to the scent of blood and death spread upon the bed ; she holds the hand of the princess till she awakens. @@ -477,12 +482,12 @@ A warship enters the harbour, its turrets make their way behind the chimneys and Women, hands to their hair, they run along the estuary, scream, bang their foreheads against the torn trees, fall in the sludge, pick themselves up, enter the water to the waist, suffocate ; one of them holds in her hand a spoon smeared with barley gruel. They plunge their heads under water, pull their children to the surface, and hoist them on their shoulders. On the bank, they lay them, among the dead leaves, on the mounds of dry earth. The sentries fire again, the bullets raise dust, under the leaves, smash the dead children's knees and the hands gripping them. -The bangs make the princess's hand quiver, on a small cut Mantinee made on her cheek while getting up from bed. The princess puts her mouth forward, licks the wound with her tongue ; Mantinee, her hands opened, bent round on her chest, leans her head slightly on her shoulder, the princess's blood runs down her cheek, a blood mixed with saliva, which the princess herself licks up to Mantinee's neck. +The bangs make the princess' hand quiver, on a small cut Mantinee made on her cheek while getting up from bed. The princess puts her mouth forward, licks the wound with her tongue ; Mantinee, her hands opened, bent round on her chest, leans her head slightly on her shoulder, the princess' blood runs down her cheek, a blood mixed with saliva, which the princess herself licks up to Mantinee's neck. -The young officer, clasping A\"{\i}ssa against his belly, gives a start, the boy falls asleep in the sweat of the soldier, whose hand burrowed inside A\"{\i}ssa's shorts plays with his cock. Mantinee's throat is tense under the cruel sun, blood burns inside the princess's mouth, tears roll down Mantinee's nostrils, the princess plucks them and drinks them. At the windows of the verandah, the crowd of quivering slaves, their eyes crusted over, the corner of their lips too, watch the princess of bloody shadows. Their children lie asleep at their feet, their breath clouds the windows, their half-open lips are stuck to the glass. +The young officer, clasping A\"{\i}ssa against his belly, gives a start, the boy falls asleep in the sweat of the soldier, whose hand burrowed inside A\"{\i}ssa's shorts plays with his cock. Mantinee's throat is tense under the cruel sun, blood burns inside the princess' mouth, tears roll down Mantinee's nostrils, the princess plucks them and drinks them. At the windows of the veranda, the crowd of quivering slaves, their eyes crusted over, the corner of their lips too, watch the princess of bloody shadows. Their children lie asleep at their feet, their breath clouds the windows, their half-open lips are stuck to the glass. % TODO tail -> tails -Mantinee searches for the princess, with two strong siaves ; at the edge of the estuary, guarded by a section, sitting on a halftrack's running board, the young enemy officer listens to A\"{\i}ssa playing his violin ; the boy is standing, leaning on the mudguard ; small rats run inside the tracks, their tail dragging in the mud. +Mantinee searches for the princess, with two strong slaves ; at the edge of the estuary, guarded by a section, sitting on a halftrack's running board, the young enemy officer listens to A\"{\i}ssa playing his violin ; the boy is standing, leaning on the mudguard ; small rats run inside the tracks, their tail dragging in the mud. The soldiers see the slaves and behind them, Mantinee ; they spring forward, they seize them by the wrists, they push them in front of the officer~: @@ -517,11 +522,11 @@ He hasn't buttoned himself up again, his cock hangs on the cloth of the battledr Opposite them, on the shore of Leuctres, a house is burning, soldiers run around it, the trees catch fire, it creeps under the grass, explodes, tears the snow on the sides of the promontory ; the birds, caught unaware by the fire, shoot out and fall in the virgin snow, choking, their belly stiff and feet in the air ; the officer leans his thigh against Mantinee's cheek ; the violin sings in the icy air ; the slaves' blood streams in the cracks of the frozen earth. -Ierissos, in the evening, on the road to Ouranopolis, catches the enemy officer's platoons unaware ; the ambush resounds in the night, the wounded crawl to the fir trees and hide behind the trunks ; the officer, Ierissos hunts him in the tall, frosty grass ; he falls on a small frozen pond, Ierissos plunges his dagger in his chest, the blade pierces through the ice, the officer groans, blood spurts from his mouth ; on his wounded body, Ierissos recognizes Mantinee's perfume ; the ice gives way, a star-shaped crack spreads under the officer's head ; Ierissos stands up, he aims at the throat, he fires, the body starts on the broken ice and sinks into the dark water, blood spattering the transparent ice ; inside the halftrack, slaves and soldiers, knives brandished, fight hand to hand. The cushions' horsehair flies around their legs ; the wounded bite the bloody bark of the fir trees ; a soldier and a slave, waist clasped inside the turret, grasp each other's throat ; the slave hits the soldier's belly with his knee, the soldier spits in his face, saliva runs on the ring, the slave drinks ; the soldier breaks loose using his dagger which he plunges in the slave's belly, then he clubs the slave with his rifle butt, he passes a hand on his injured throat, he turns the dagger over inside the slave's belly, draws it out, wipes the bloody blade on the hair of the collapsed slave ; he jumps from the halftrack ; Ierissos sees him, he shoots him, but his foot slides on the snow, Ierissos falls on the small of his back ; two enemy soldiers, hiding behind the mudguard spring forward ; Ierissos, on one hand draws himself up, he machine- guns the soldiers who collapse, their heads in the marks left by the halftrack, their breath of agony melting the snow under their mouth. +Ierissos, in the evening, on the road to Ouranopolis, catches the enemy officer's platoons unaware ; the ambush resounds in the night, the wounded crawl to the fir trees and hide behind the trunks ; the officer, Ierissos hunts him in the tall, frosty grass ; he falls on a small frozen pond, Ierissos plunges his dagger in his chest, the blade pierces through the ice, the officer groans, blood spurts from his mouth ; on his wounded body, Ierissos recognizes Mantinee's perfume ; the ice gives way, a star-shaped crack spreads under the officer's head ; Ierissos stands up, he aims at the throat, he fires, the body starts on the broken ice and sinks into the dark water, blood spattering the transparent ice ; inside the halftrack, slaves and soldiers, knives brandished, fight hand to hand. The cushions' horsehair flies around their legs ; the wounded bite the bloody bark of the fir trees ; a soldier and a slave, waist clasped inside the turret, grasp each other's throat ; the slave hits the soldier's belly with his knee, the soldier spits in his face, saliva runs on the ring, the slave drinks ; the soldier breaks loose using his dagger which he plunges in the slave's belly, then he clubs the slave with his rifle butt, he passes a hand on his injured throat, he turns the dagger over inside the slave's belly, draws it out, wipes the bloody blade on the hair of the collapsed slave ; he jumps from the halftrack ; Ierissos sees him, he shoots him, but his foot slides on the snow, Ierissos falls on the small of his back ; two enemy soldiers, hiding behind the mudguard spring forward ; Ierissos, on one hand draws himself up, he machine-guns the soldiers who collapse, their heads in the marks left by the halftrack, their breath of agony melting the snow under their mouth. A\"{\i}ssa runs towards the pond, his violin falls on the ice, slides in a moonbeam ; around the strings dragonflies, shot out of the semi-darkness of the reeds, flicker ; A\"{\i}ssa walks on the pond, his nostrils opened to the fragrance of ice and blood ; he picks up the violin softly pushed by the wind on the ice ; through the creaking shell he sees the officer's corpse held back under the ice, mouth stuck to the floe and sparklings instead of eyes. -The prisoners taken by Ierissos escape before dawn, carrying A\"{\i}ssa away ; as the battle has filled them with lust, they go to the brothel pushing A\"{\i}ssa in front of them, and having no more money, they seil the boy, in exchange for a whore for each of them, every night until their next transfer to the Northern front. +The prisoners taken by Ierissos escape before dawn, carrying A\"{\i}ssa away ; as the battle has filled them with lust, they go to the brothel pushing A\"{\i}ssa in front of them, and having no more money, they soil the boy, in exchange for a whore for each of them, every night until their next transfer to the Northern front. The boy-seller pushes A\"{\i}ssa into a small cubicle closed by a curtain made of corrugated iron~: @@ -541,13 +546,13 @@ God, who has been at the point of death for three centuries, dies. His priests, Ierissos, one night, walks by the captain's side in Ecbatane asleep under the rain ; the sandy foam of the estuary hits the broadside of illuminated ships where unbuttoned seamen, play cards, laugh and fondle the breasts of girls with lips soiled with sperm and wine. -Along the wharf, lit-up shops are filled with fruits, metal, grain ; a small recessed shop, reached by a staircase swarming with rats, Ierissos and the captain climb upstairs ; behind the glass panes clouded and soiled with spatters of shit and spittle, a narrow corridor, cut halfway by a turning counter lined with skid- mounted cages ; inside the cages and on a tiling covered with sawdust and shreds of blankets, little girls in rags and tatters, three in each cage, their hair dishevelled under the raw light of neon, squatting, delouse themselves, lick their lips and hands ; on the bars, placards : price, origin. Through the window, Ierissos hears the murmur from their lips, their saliva and their muscles. +Along the wharf, lit-up shops are filled with fruits, metal, grain ; a small recessed shop, reached by a staircase swarming with rats, Ierissos and the captain climb upstairs ; behind the glass panes clouded and soiled with spatters of shit and spittle, a narrow corridor, cut halfway by a turning counter lined with skid-mounted cages ; inside the cages and on a tiling covered with sawdust and shreds of blankets, little girls in rags and tatters, three in each cage, their hair disheveled under the raw light of neon, squatting, delouse themselves, lick their lips and hands ; on the bars, placards : price, origin. Through the window, Ierissos hears the murmur from their lips, their saliva and their muscles. Ecbatane subdues, crushes the rebellions of its colonies. The captain is dismissed from the State. Formerly tactical, the army becomes a police force. The State is in the hands of rebels who, in Ecbatane's liberation saw only the ejection and murder of the occupying enemy ; those who hoped for a liberation from the interior enemy ; disappointed, disarmed, suspects in their own family, retire to educational and athletic action. Gradually, the less pure among them agree to return to the State ; there they are, at once, implicated in colonial repressions or in emergency alliances. But, their presence, even uneasy, in the State, produces an ever-increasing social consciousness ; the slaves are set free or reserved only for pleasure and for war. New laws protect their labour, the leisure and education of their children ; cities are built for them exclusively ; they cannot rebel any more ; many, among their former masters, envy them, ruined by the fall of the patriarchal regime of collaboration with the enemy and the importing into Ecbatane of too costly industrial equipment, and of risky investment methods. -Ierissos walks in now-deserted Leuctres, Mantinee sits on a wooden bench ; his fist strokes the palisades and the fallen thatches ; at the bottom of knocked-down huts, his foot hits, crushes broken celluloid toys ; on the plaster-work is written : \said{Rabia is my lover} ; Ierissos feels a lump in his throat : Mantinee, her scarf floating over her shoulders, is watching the sea and the evening star reflected there. Ierissos comes close, he strokes Mantinee's hair ; under his nails, dried blood from the ambush at Ouranopoiis~: +Ierissos walks in now-deserted Leuctres, Mantinee sits on a wooden bench ; his fist strokes the palisades and the fallen thatches ; at the bottom of knocked-down huts, his foot hits, crushes broken celluloid toys ; on the plaster-work is written : \speech{Rabia is my lover} ; Ierissos feels a lump in his throat : Mantinee, her scarf floating over her shoulders, is watching the sea and the evening star reflected there. Ierissos comes close, he strokes Mantinee's hair ; under his nails, dried blood from the ambush at Ouranopoiis~: --- I go in for disbelief, with a quivering of joy. My forehead, I want it crushed and squeezed by the bow of a litter, and my shoulders soiled by vomit. O doubt, only eternity. @@ -563,13 +568,13 @@ By evening, in Ecbatane, the newspapers are torn from hand to hand : Inamenas, d A ship leaves Ecbatane, soldiers shout on the deck, vomit over the rigging. Ierissos, Mantinee taken back by the princess, at night, in the middle of the sea, brings buckets of soup to the soldiers ; the soldiers, drunk, chest and neck smeared with vomit, knock him down and plunge his head inside a bucket of scalding hot soup, until death. -\chapter{Second Chant} +\chapter{Second Song} -A city was rising out of the marshes, bordered at the east by the sea, at the west by the estuary of the river, Sebaou. The ancient working class district plunged into the marsh, towards the river where shacks made of bamboo and sheet metal vibrate day and night, built on piles. The new, residential district, is built on an artificial hill and protected from the slums by a screen of lime trees, almond trees and gum trees where the kites of officers' and higher civil servants' children get caught. The soldiers of the army occupying the island and maintaining order, those stationed at Inamenas, and those from the deep ends of the island who come to relax here from month to month, live under the trees, below the villas and the palaces, in barracks of concrete and green aluminium. At night, they bend over the roofs of the ancient district, they shout, they sing, they vomit in the moonlight and the quivering of leaves, and the smell of decay comes upon the silent slums. There, live families decimated by conscription and betrayal, pressed by hunger, desire and fear. At night, groups of children ragged and tattered, hair stuck to the skull by an unknown blood, run along the muddy alleys, fall in the rubbish, ride on each other in the soiled grass, knees plunged into the layer of human and animal shit. The women, hair glued to the mouth by the lipstick, in the light of half-opened doors, call while pulling up their stockings under the dress. Screams then shoot out of the piles of wood, the street angles, the bushes, the deserted latrines. Men smoke in front of the houses, sitting in circles over the mud. A gunshot tears the night, a sob springs up from a shack. The children, jostling the women busy fastening their garters, throw themselves on the soup, the cats claw the roof's metal sheets. +A city was rising out of the marshes, bordered at the east by the sea, at the west by the estuary of the river, Sebaou. The ancient working class district plunged into the marsh, towards the river where shacks made of bamboo and sheet metal vibrate day and night, built on piles. The new, residential district, is built on an artificial hill and protected from the slums by a screen of lime trees, almond trees and gum trees where the kites of officers' and higher civil servants' children get caught. The soldiers of the army occupying the island and maintaining order, those stationed at Inamenas, and those from the deep ends of the island who come to relax here from month to month, live under the trees, below the villas and the palaces, in barracks of concrete and green aluminum. At night, they bend over the roofs of the ancient district, they shout, they sing, they vomit in the moonlight and the quivering of leaves, and the smell of decay comes upon the silent slums. There, live families decimated by conscription and betrayal, pressed by hunger, desire and fear. At night, groups of children ragged and tattered, hair stuck to the skull by an unknown blood, run along the muddy alleys, fall in the rubbish, ride on each other in the soiled grass, knees plunged into the layer of human and animal shit. The women, hair glued to the mouth by the lipstick, in the light of half-opened doors, call while pulling up their stockings under the dress. Screams then shoot out of the piles of wood, the street angles, the bushes, the deserted latrines. Men smoke in front of the houses, sitting in circles over the mud. A gunshot tears the night, a sob springs up from a shack. The children, jostling the women busy fastening their garters, throw themselves on the soup, the cats claw the roof's metal sheets. In the distance, out of the ruts of night, leap starving beasts, they slash the injured storks and the stray children. Human and animal cries then rise from the earth and men watch with indifference the mutilated night. The beasts, heavy, run away, their claws drawn in, towards the top of the hills, jump over ravines, carrying, between their fangs, throbbing prey. Springs gush out, newly born, in the darkness. -In the morning, the young beggars lying on the ground like animal hides, sleep, their hardened cocks crushed between the belly and the wet stone. Children, out of bed early, trample them uttering hoarse cries. The grass is freezing, they roll in it half-naked, under the gaze of sentries doing the third spell of night duty. These, shivering in their drenched cloaks, rejoin the centre of the camp. The women, pinned down on their straw mattresses, are hoping for returns, for liberations. The beggars on awakening shake their tatters and drag themselves along to the balmy glades where the sun is fuming. An adulteress is weeping deep inside: the village for her lost lover and children. The lover runs among the heathers, losing his blood. Soldiers, young, the nape of their neck shaven, standing around a truck, are beating their breast with their fists. Inside the cabin, one of them wakes up, hts half-shut eyes see the man bending towards the ground, like a shrub ; the soldier shouts. They all bring their rifles to the shoulder and fire. The man leaps, stretching his arms sideways and falls, on the elbows, on the knees, gets up again, and tries to escape. The soldiers spring forward, they overtake him, they knock him down head against the earth. One of them presses both his hands on the man's nape, two others kneel on his back and on his legs. The man has become silent, his skin, his muscles softened. A fourth soldier draws a dagger out of his battledress and, swift, slashes the man's throat ; the blood spurts, spatters the mud and the soldiers' knees. The one who pressed the nape withdraws his hand~: +In the morning, the young beggars lying on the ground like animal hides, sleep, their hardened cocks crushed between the belly and the wet stone. Children, out of bed early, trample them uttering hoarse cries. The grass is freezing, they roll in it half-naked, under the gaze of sentries doing the third spell of night duty. These, shivering in their drenched cloaks, rejoin the centre of the camp. The women, pinned down on their straw mattresses, are hoping for returns, for liberations. The beggars on awakening shake their tatters and drag themselves along to the balmy glades where the sun is fuming. An adulteress is weeping deep inside: the village for her lost lover and children. The lover runs among the heathers, losing his blood. Soldiers, young, the nape of their neck shaven, standing around a truck, are beating their breast with their fists. Inside the cabin, one of them wakes up, his half-shut eyes see the man bending towards the ground, like a shrub ; the soldier shouts. They all bring their rifles to the shoulder and fire. The man leaps, stretching his arms sideways and falls, on the elbows, on the knees, gets up again, and tries to escape. The soldiers spring forward, they overtake him, they knock him down head against the earth. One of them presses both his hands on the man's nape, two others kneel on his back and on his legs. The man has become silent, his skin, his muscles softened. A fourth soldier draws a dagger out of his battledress and, swift, slashes the man's throat ; the blood spurts, spatters the mud and the soldiers' knees. The one who pressed the nape withdraws his hand~: --- You cut me. Bloody army. Bloody army. @@ -577,7 +582,7 @@ And he jumps on the slaughterer and grips his throat with bloody fingers ; the s Thus awakens the lower city. On the other side of the tree curtain, on the artificial hill, chocolate and tea are shaking inside the fine cups ; provisional getting dressed, furtive departure of sleepy lovers, anguish, servants waiting, relief of sentries, taking over of command, children washing. -Below, soldiers stripped to the waist, a piece of linen around their neck, plunge their head into the pond. Warrant officers, epaulette askew, prick their shoulders and elbows with rush shoots. The prisoners come out of the cellars, sentries carrying loaded rifles push them towards the latrines. At the pond, cheeks barred with bloody lather, the soldiers look at each other through glass triangles. +Below, soldiers stripped to the waist, a piece of linen around their neck, plunge their head into the pond. Warrant officers, epaulet askew, prick their shoulders and elbows with rush shoots. The prisoners come out of the cellars, sentries carrying loaded rifles push them towards the latrines. At the pond, cheeks barred with bloody lather, the soldiers look at each other through glass triangles. The lower district is crowded with incomplete families, squalling, dirty, children are swarming there : many cannot recognize their natural parents any more and live in several different homes ; the authorities neglect the children's civil status. There are no more men, only the elderly and the crippled, and lunatics back from questioning. The boys have disappeared, girls disappear, their torn dresses caught in thistle and ivy. Often, while playing, children discover disfigured corpses at the bottom of deserted ponds, heads putrid under the helmets. @@ -585,7 +590,7 @@ Countryside and sky are bright. In the evening, stray horses gallop freely along One ringleader is named Kment. His natural mother is in jail. His brothers, his sisters are her three lovers' offspring. Their adoptive father is dying by inches, inside the shack. The only child he got from his wife, is killed by her. Pregnant, she crushes her belly against the walls, she reddens it by the flames from the gas ring ; but the child, his throat scarred by the abortionist's fork, screams, and the father takes him and keeps him gluey and chilled under his blanket. The mother grinds her knives in front of the child's eyes, she laughs, she covers his head with saucepans, she lets him sleep in his shit and in daytime, dogs follow him and burrow their snout under his rompers. When a young boy, at night, she soils his clothes, and beats him at dawn ; or else, slips a few coins inside his pockets, and puts him to shame. She ties him up naked, belly against the back of the chair, throws a ball of wool to her other children and these bind his knees, chest, penis and neck and pull at his teeth. Kment puts an end to those games, knocks down his mother squatting over the gas ring, twists her arm, boils water, plunges his mother's head where the sperm of the father and the one of the lovers is drying ; then he sits in front of the mirror hanging from the dividing wall, and his hands search, among the soiled linen : stockings, bras, towel and facecloth, the scent bottle ; he opens it and turns it over and pours it on the hair ; he bites the scented hair and his tears roll down, without wetting it ; his hands cover the bared breasts and the mother, turning her face, kisses his chest and the edge of the armpits, under the tatters. One evening, Kment roaming the countryside with his gang, the boy returns from play, his blouse soiled by mud. The mother grabs him by the hair, gets him naked, plunges him in a basin of icy water, keeps his head beneath the surface. Her anger appeased, she pulls him out of the water. The child moves no more, his head falls back, his lips are white. The mother, with throbbings inside her throat, lays him on the bed, covers his lifeless body with sea salt and rubs it with a piece of holland cloth, so strongly that on the neck and around the navel, the skin rolls up. Lips foaming, the other children watch, squatting in the dark, at the foot of the parents' bed, stained sheets falling on both sides upon the mud floor. The child, revived, smiles to his mother, holds out to her his closed hands, but she, jealous to see him thus move and love again, biting the child's clasped hands and clenching them between her teeth, hits him at the temples with her fists ; the child grapples on to her arms, yells. At last, she lets him go, panting, bruised ; she goes out in the balmy night, her hand wiping the sweat from her brow ; the child writhes on the bed ; the elder daughter --- her nascent breasts tearing through the top of her dress --- comes towards the bed : --- Take me in your arms, it hurts too much, it hurts too much. Carry me to the moon. -She takes him in his arms and rocks him, her hands stroking the child's battered and blackened temples, sits outside, before the moon, of which the rays refresh the chafed stomach. The mother, risen from the heap of straw and the lying lover pulling at her leg, she uncreases her dress ; steps over the straw heap, runs through the clouded ptace, leans her forehead against the door : the child is dead, vomiting the wool which was choking him. In the night, a storm comes from the sea, the mud weighs against the door. The mother, until dawn clinging to the cradle, protects the child's corpse, rats are grappling on to the blankets. In the morning, Kment, intoxicated, his mouth bloody, bashes the door in with his knees, throws himself on a straw mattress, folds his muddy legs under his buttocks and falls asleep ; under him a shape moans : the youngest of his brothers still alive. The mother gets up, lights a candle ; Kment, face against the ground, unfolds his legs ; his big body saws the child's chest : this one tries to get free, moves his legs and arms ; gradually, the skin of his face turning blue, his lips separate, like the mouth of a small fish pulled out of water ; the tongue vibrates at the bottom of the mouth. The mother lifts Kment's body, makes him roll on the ground, against the door ; the child suffocates, the rats pull his hair ; squatting down, the mother moves no more. At the bottom, the rats make the cradle blanket's folds tremble. When Kment wakes up at noon, they are running on the child's body in the cradle, nibbling the eyelashes and the lips. +She takes him in his arms and rocks him, her hands stroking the child's battered and blackened temples, sits outside, before the moon, of which the rays refresh the chafed stomach. The mother, risen from the heap of straw and the lying lover pulling at her leg, she uncreases her dress ; steps over the straw heap, runs through the clouded place, leans her forehead against the door : the child is dead, vomiting the wool which was choking him. In the night, a storm comes from the sea, the mud weighs against the door. The mother, until dawn clinging to the cradle, protects the child's corpse, rats are grappling on to the blankets. In the morning, Kment, intoxicated, his mouth bloody, bashes the door in with his knees, throws himself on a straw mattress, folds his muddy legs under his buttocks and falls asleep ; under him a shape moans : the youngest of his brothers still alive. The mother gets up, lights a candle ; Kment, face against the ground, unfolds his legs ; his big body saws the child's chest : this one tries to get free, moves his legs and arms ; gradually, the skin of his face turning blue, his lips separate, like the mouth of a small fish pulled out of water ; the tongue vibrates at the bottom of the mouth. The mother lifts Kment's body, makes him roll on the ground, against the door ; the child suffocates, the rats pull his hair ; squatting down, the mother moves no more. At the bottom, the rats make the cradle blanket's folds tremble. When Kment wakes up at noon, they are running on the child's body in the cradle, nibbling the eyelashes and the lips. After the mother has gone to jail, the children get reared on their own, stealing, selling themselves by the day in the mixed brothels of the lower city. Their shack smells like a fox's den. They come to sleep there now and then ; rats have made their nest in the cradle of the dead child, under the lacerated blankets. At night, the cradle rocks in the dark and the rats utter little baby cries. @@ -597,13 +602,13 @@ The headquarters have been set up on the seaside in a group of villas surrounded --- When does our furniture arrive~? -Every day, every night, young people from Ecbatane, hardly grown out of childhood, die, mutilated, castrated, slaughtered, crucified, chopped to pieces, in order to retain for their civilian and military chiefs, justifying them by the violence of their sacrifice, wealth and political dignity, honour. Foreign reporters film those remains swarming with flies. Commandos set fire to the village closest to the place of the ambush. +{\sloppy Every day, every night, young people from Ecbatane, hardly grown out of childhood, die, mutilated, castrated, slaughtered, crucified, chopped to pieces, in order to retain for their civilian and military chiefs, justifying them by the violence of their sacrifice, wealth and political dignity, honour. Foreign reporters film those remains swarming with flies. Commandos set fire to the village closest to the place of the ambush. \par} Kment meets the rebels, but also some chiefs : officers and warrant officers of the occupation army. In a secret room, at the borderline between both cities, by them undressed, his belly bare in front of the gas flames, he watches water boiling for tea and the sperm is boiling inside the erect cocks of the soldiers pressed around him and breathing over his shoulders. He steals plans from them. Fondling him makes them talkative ; in the morning, fear seizes them, they threaten Kment, but, in the evening, they search for him among the barbed wires, they implore him. As soon as they touch him, they forget their threats and their suspicions. Their men know all those things ; they give their chiefs suitable nicknames ; some, even, send to the deserted wives anonymous letters relating in detail their husbands' crepuscular work. Several wives, out of spite, give themselves to the acknowledged authors of the letters. On days of military operations, those men : quartermasters, secretaries, armourers, crowd at the gates of the villas : the children go out, to throw stones at the young natives. Those soldiers are always wearing new clothes, eating others' rations, stealing bullets and explosives, to sell them in the city to reactionary young men, pomading the pustules of their penises and of their cheeks, fondling each other under the mosquito nets, and never fighting. They feel repugnance to combat, but live on war. Often, the commandos, back from operations, catch them and plunge them all dressed in the pond. They fine the soldiers from platoons having lost bullets or mislaid a belt loop ; after, they put the money in a box and undress in their barrackrooms the prettiest and youngest prostitutes from the lower city. Secretaries, aide-de-camps have influence on their chiefs ; indeed, they know their private life. They press hard upon those tired men, they humour their liking for sacrifice to a State that is forsaking them. Chiefs appreciate these skillful people, these pimps. -Headquarters have their own landing strips. Soldiers dug them out, at the beginning of the war. The chiefs' women and mistresses pass in front of the road works, playing cards and wineglasses in their hands, the children sprinkle each other, under the shelter of the tamarisks, with orangeade diluted with water. Soldiers can buy drinks, a glass of orangeade for two weeks' pay. Often, the servant in attendance on one of these women, catches a soldier by the epaulette and pushes him into the villa : furniture to move, curtains to hang up, vomit, turds of luxury cats and dogs\ldots\ At the end of the dark room, under the closed shutters, knees striped by the rays of light, a boy or a girl in light shorts, spreads thighs, smiling to the shoulder bending over the tiled floor or perched on a stool. The young maidservant brushes past the soldier, her breasts are jutting out of the bodice, the soldier unlaces the apron's string, over the loins, his hand covers the moist belly of the servant, at the place where the pubic hair, bristled up, makes the wool swell. Then, he gets released, he returns dazzled to his work, under the sun, in the insecurity of slavery. Kment watches the streaming backs of these soldiers and their shaven napes, when he goes to visit his natural mother in the prison and his brothers and his sisters are following him, washed and combed, having left the languid or brutal company of the soldiers, in the secret rooms. +Headquarters have their own landing strips. Soldiers dug them out, at the beginning of the war. The chiefs' women and mistresses pass in front of the road works, playing cards and wineglasses in their hands, the children sprinkle each other, under the shelter of the tamarisks, with orangeade diluted with water. Soldiers can buy drinks, a glass of orangeade for two weeks' pay. Often, the servant in attendance on one of these women, catches a soldier by the epaulet and pushes him into the villa : furniture to move, curtains to hang up, vomit, turds of luxury cats and dogs\ldots\ At the end of the dark room, under the closed shutters, knees striped by the rays of light, a boy or a girl in light shorts, spreads thighs, smiling to the shoulder bending over the tiled floor or perched on a stool. The young maidservant brushes past the soldier, her breasts are jutting out of the bodice, the soldier unlaces the apron's string, over the loins, his hand covers the moist belly of the servant, at the place where the pubic hair, bristled up, makes the wool swell. Then, he gets released, he returns dazzled to his work, under the sun, in the insecurity of slavery. Kment watches the streaming backs of these soldiers and their shaven napes, when he goes to visit his natural mother in the prison and his brothers and his sisters are following him, washed and combed, having left the languid or brutal company of the soldiers, in the secret rooms. In the evening, soldiers working at these sites, return to camp, crammed in the trucks, with burning hot tilts, dazed by weariness and sun, grubby, munching rust. Along the streets of the lower city, the trucks drive at full speed, running over dogs, brushing past old men, women, covering them with dust and grease. The soldiers, tossed about, thrown against each other, excited by those violent contacts and by the sight of women, yell, spit, stand up against the rails, raise their fists, unbutton themselves, tear off, hanging between the barracks, the dried festoons of some ancient feast and tie them around their thighs. When the dust has fallen down again over the spittle, over the pools of blood and the quivering bodies of the dogs, men come out of the houses, drag those fuming remains towards the small gardens and the pits. Later, the forgotten bodies putrefy on the spot and mix with the sand. Cats, dogs, starving children smell out these carrion slabs, exhume them and devour them aside. @@ -617,7 +622,7 @@ The governor has his palace on the top of the hill. The metropolitan government The soldiers calm down, open their thighs and close them on the rifle's burning hot barrel ; they doze off, head against shoulder. The trucks drive under the streaming cliffs, the road is muddy, mud spatters the soldiers' buttocks, sitting heavily on the rails. The soldiers wake up, shiver, water hits the truck's roof. Further along, it is full sun : the metal, the bright-steel sheets, the rearview mirrors sparkle and burn the fingers. -The soldiers fondle the medals and the baptismal chains on their bare chest, raise them to their lips ; the coolness of gold and silver shakes their body. Sweat runs down on the eyelashes\ldots\ The governor's young wife, Emilienne, is bathing in the sea, with her stepson, Serge, the folds of the dripping swimsuit sparkle when she comes out of the water ; the afternoon, in summer, she prowls through the corridors, the verandahs and the greenhouses, her breasts uncovered a little and the palms touch them lightly\ldots\ The soldiers dream, give faint kisses, faint caresses, move, stretch out their lips, their hands, upwards, grip the butt of the rifle between their thighs. In the evening, at the brothel, they ransack the rooms, and hammer the whores half-dead on the hair mattress, mouths swollen with sperm, throats strangulated ; then they return to camp, drunk, belly and loins on fire. At night, all along the danger zone, they vomit in the darkness, on the cacti, on the white flowers opened at night on the edge of the fast rivers ; the bushes are filled with noises of vomiting and of rifle butts hitting the stones, of the flowings of vomit. But, further away, in the operation zone, all those noises and vomiting cease, the waists become supple, the thighs do not get roused any more by the swift contact, the brushing of fresh leaves, the slow, burning caress of the tall grass, on the cloth of the battledress. +The soldiers fondle the medals and the baptismal chains on their bare chest, raise them to their lips ; the coolness of gold and silver shakes their body. Sweat runs down on the eyelashes\ldots\ The governor's young wife, Emilienne, is bathing in the sea, with her stepson, Serge, the folds of the dripping swimsuit sparkle when she comes out of the water ; the afternoon, in summer, she prowls through the corridors, the verandas and the greenhouses, her breasts uncovered a little and the palms touch them lightly\ldots\ The soldiers dream, give faint kisses, faint caresses, move, stretch out their lips, their hands, upwards, grip the butt of the rifle between their thighs. In the evening, at the brothel, they ransack the rooms, and hammer the whores half-dead on the hair mattress, mouths swollen with sperm, throats strangulated ; then they return to camp, drunk, belly and loins on fire. At night, all along the danger zone, they vomit in the darkness, on the cacti, on the white flowers opened at night on the edge of the fast rivers ; the bushes are filled with noises of vomiting and of rifle butts hitting the stones, of the flowings of vomit. But, further away, in the operation zone, all those noises and vomiting cease, the waists become supple, the thighs do not get roused any more by the swift contact, the brushing of fresh leaves, the slow, burning caress of the tall grass, on the cloth of the battledress. The governor has, from his first wife, two children : Serge and Fabienne ; their natural mother, after a long illness, dies, her hand caught in the embroidering of the sheet. Fabienne is playing with her doll under the tamarisks. Serge, his forehead scarred by the beak of a cormorant, rises from bed, puts his penis back inside his shorts, washes his hands, smooths down and wets his hair rumpled in the pillow. He comes down from the attic, he runs across the park, to the rocks, lifts the boughs. Fabienne, sitting, legs spread out, dress tucked up over the thighs, doll overturned upon her knee, kneads her small breasts with her fingers. Serge roars with laughter~: @@ -651,9 +656,9 @@ And he strokes those hands not knowing they tremble because of him. He can now l --- O Serge, I too, I want you. In the evening, when your hand whips the bath water, I quiver, sitting in the lounge, I see water stream on your belly, cover your thighs and the plastic duck float around your cock. -He follows her in the corridor, then under the arcade ; he feels on his legs the coolness of the rain falling close to them. Emilienne walks in front of him without looking back. In a playroom, near the verandah, soldiers are playing ping pong ; the noise of the balls, the shouts of the players, the flashes of their knees and of their fists piercing the rain, reach Serge, purified, the shouts especially with their primeval resonance --- rain changes them into children's cries. Serge sees himself condemned to live without the love of women. Emilienne leans her hips and her swollen breasts against a pillar's damp sandstone, Serge strokes her bosom, his nipples are itching as if from the cold ; the cloth of Emilienne's dress stretches between the thighs and slackens between the breasts. Serge holds out a hand ; a soldier stops the game, keeps the ball between his wrist and the bat, glances at Emilienne : on his thigh, the shorts' cloth quivers and swells~: +He follows her in the corridor, then under the arcade ; he feels on his legs the coolness of the rain falling close to them. Emilienne walks in front of him without looking back. In a playroom, near the veranda, soldiers are playing ping pong ; the noise of the balls, the shouts of the players, the flashes of their knees and of their fists piercing the rain, reach Serge, purified, the shouts especially with their primeval resonance --- rain changes them into children's cries. Serge sees himself condemned to live without the love of women. Emilienne leans her hips and her swollen breasts against a pillar's damp sandstone, Serge strokes her bosom, his nipples are itching as if from the cold ; the cloth of Emilienne's dress stretches between the thighs and slackens between the breasts. Serge holds out a hand ; a soldier stops the game, keeps the ball between his wrist and the bat, glances at Emilienne : on his thigh, the shorts' cloth quivers and swells~: ---- She resembles my fianc\'{e}e in Ecbatane. Her brothers are keeping her a virgin for me. +--- She resembles my fianc\'ee in Ecbatane. Her brothers are keeping her a virgin for me. The other player slams his fist on the table~: @@ -675,7 +680,7 @@ The sentry takes Kment in his arms, he carries him to the police station, he lay He moves off. Kment breathes the smell of soap and sweat, the smell of soldiers, the smell of rapes, the smell of contempt. The peasants, the wretched, the children, the women fear that smell ; it swoops down on them, by day, by night, especially : it invades the houses, the streets, it blends with the perfumes of night, of trees, of water, it seizes the women by the throat, sometimes it can move them. -Inamenas, colonized for a hundred years by Ecbatane, wants to free itself. Half of its buildings, its houses, its places of worship are used as prisons. The whole population is suspect. The governor is now condemned by the rebels and thwarted by the military. He prays, he entertains the chaplains : those are barely concerned about the soldiers, they pity the officers, celebrate mass in their midst, in the mess with gleaming bottles and the waiters are locked up inside the kitchens ; they tremble with fear in the mountain passes, they throw sweets to the escort soldiers. They get newspapers from Ecbatane for the officers, film magazines for the soldiers, but the soldiers have brought with them from Ecbatane their pornographic magazines and the Hundred and Twenty Positions ; the chaplains drink sodas with a straw, they stop outside the barrackrooms and the kitchens to hear the soldiers speak about women and smack the foam inside their mouth. Never, in the mountain, never at combat. They conclude in Inamenas their active career ; warm retirements, attentive nuns await them on the continent. Here, the morning host triygers off the malarial colic. +Inamenas, colonized for a hundred years by Ecbatane, wants to free itself. Half of its buildings, its houses, its places of worship are used as prisons. The whole population is suspect. The governor is now condemned by the rebels and thwarted by the military. He prays, he entertains the chaplains : those are barely concerned about the soldiers, they pity the officers, celebrate mass in their midst, in the mess with gleaming bottles and the waiters are locked up inside the kitchens ; they tremble with fear in the mountain passes, they throw sweets to the escort soldiers. They get newspapers from Ecbatane for the officers, film magazines for the soldiers, but the soldiers have brought with them from Ecbatane their pornographic magazines and the Hundred and Twenty Positions ; the chaplains drink sodas with a straw, they stop outside the barrackrooms and the kitchens to hear the soldiers speak about women and smack the foam inside their mouth. Never, in the mountain, never at combat. They conclude in Inamenas their active career ; warm retirements, attentive nuns await them on the continent. Here, the morning host triggers off the malarial colic. \secbreak @@ -685,7 +690,7 @@ At the beginning of winter, headquarters sends a score of soldiers in the snow, --- Hey, Doucen, this night, you spoke\ldots ---- What ?\ldots\ I said what ?\ldots +--- What~?\ldots\ I said what~?\ldots --- You were kissing God's cheek and you were ploughing his field with your hardened cock\ldots @@ -703,15 +708,15 @@ Smaeh, sitting on the milestone of the main road weeps, her bare breast shaking --- One night, I perhaps held her in my arms, in Ecbatane inside the brothel of the harbour where we were embarking ; the whore's lips had a taste of elixir, I pressed her in my arms against the washbasin ; she, her hair covered with the plasterers' lime, was unbuttoning me, and at one go grabbed in her hand my cock and my balls ; the semen was splashing the twigs of boxwood fastened over the bed inside the lead pipe filled with fibres and small haircurls ; motionless and silent I cover her then I rise and move my arms and my hips the way an eagle, weighing down on some prey and strangling it, salutes its death by a fluttering of wings\ldots -The soldiers march down towards lake Goulmine ; the rebels are lying over the ice of the rocks ; a pink cloud passes in the frozen lake ; the crows are eating the ashes of the burnt cedar trees ; the soldiers encircle the outskirts of the lake ; at the massif's foot the roads radiate towards the sea ; the soldiers nibble their enrolment plates ; the sun caresses their back ; the shadow, the wind seize their faces, their chests, their cocks and their knees ; the rifles are turned towards the encircled shadow ; at the whistle blast, they tighten the circle around the lake ; the rebels, taken by the rear, leap out of the rocks ; Doucen, a last time, turns back, sun hits his face and his cock, he gazes at the valley drowned in a sunny mist, the fields, the houses, the trees, the birds of the sun: larks, robins, seagulls ; but turning back once again, he sees a rebel on the lake who, staring at him with his bright eyes under a bloody headband, is preparing his weapons, his fists. At the first impact, the crows shriek, wheel above the wrestling couple ; the scent of powder and blood flushing the veins caressed by the knife-blades warms up the frozen air. Doucen springs forward, he leaps over the intermingled bodies, he holds his dagger against his belly ; the hand grenades explode, the ice splashes Doucen's face and blinds him for a moment, the rebel rushes at him and knocks him down on the ice, crushing with his fist Doucen's throat and spitting on his eyes ; shouts, rattles rise in the sharp air ; reddened ice splits under the weight of the bodies, blood washes the black water ; daggers scratch the ice, rifles slide between the injured bodies ; a soldier and a rebel are wrestling by a rock ; a crow watches them, perched on the charred branches of a cedar ; blood runs forward on the rock wall, between the legs of the soldier pressed against the rock by the rebel ; the soldier tears the rebel's face with the jagged lid of a khaki can ; the rebel crushes with his belly the soldier's belly, little by little, and hitting, digging the lower part with his knee, he chokes the disarmed soldier. Doucen, strangled, rattles ; the rebel disarms him ; a soldier wounded at the throat, grabs Doucen's hand, turns his head towards him, his lips are trembling, blood rolls inside his mouth, a golden blood bubbles at the slit in his throat, he is unarmed, naked : the rebel has undressed him in haste and his already frozen limbs are covered with tatters lifted by the wind ; Doucen clasps that hand. All around, rebels and soldiers intertwined, all of them lying or bracing themselves on the ice, groan, spit, scream. In the first hours of morning, the sun precipitates the mists, the crows shake their shiny wings. The rebels flee carrying away their dead ; the dying soldiers are alone, lying, their cheeks, their foreheads on the ice ; their rattle makes the ice blue ; their knees, suddenly, shiver, their hands open, the shadows of the crows and of the clouds unfold upon the bodies stripped by the rebels' numbed fingers ; buttons, teeth, shreds of rubber bands are strewn across the reddened ice ; Doucen rises leaning on his bloody elbow, he crawls to the edge of the lake and he dies, his head buried in the sunny mist and gorged and scented with birds' chirps, children's screams, fumes from stills and sun lotion ; the dying soldiers see him rise over the ice, his legs drag on the rock, his cartridge belts hanging from his thighs and his belt squeezing his bare belly, the buckle pressing the navel, the crushed ice, reddened, runs along his hips, his face is tilted towards the sky ; the soldiers' eyes mist over, their fingers try to tear off the glazed membrane covering the iris, their throat is cooing ; rocks tumble down, in the high valleys of the Akouker ; a woman, the madam of the Ecbatane Overseas Club climbs the rocks ; then her black boot smeared with vomit, tramples, turns over the heads of the dead ; the soldiers she walks to, her knapsack gripped in her fist, hold out their arms, moan, crawl on their back, towards the rear ; but she, her mouth opened on her flashing teeth adorned with confetti and gossamer, grabs their opened hands and, squatting down, lifts their feet, their legs and drives them into the sack ; then lifts the stiffened body and, the soldier embracing with his arms her nape and her bosom, makes the rest of the body slide in the sack ; the soldier's head falls on his knee ; the woman drags the sack on the ice ; the soldiers still alive crawl towards the edge of the lake, clutch at the rocks and the trunks of the charred cedars ; but the woman separates their hands from the ash and from the rock ; when the last living soldier feels his knees and his belly stiffen and harden, Doucen and all the other soldiers are lying upon the ice at the spot and in the position where the fist, the dagger of the rebels threw and held them, before they lost consciousness. A pink light bathes the naked bodies, their wounds are mirrored inside the reformed ice. +The soldiers march down towards lake Goulmine ; the rebels are lying over the ice of the rocks ; a pink cloud passes in the frozen lake ; the crows are eating the ashes of the burnt cedar trees ; the soldiers encircle the outskirts of the lake ; at the massif's foot the roads radiate towards the sea ; the soldiers nibble their enrollment plates ; the sun caresses their back ; the shadow, the wind seize their faces, their chests, their cocks and their knees ; the rifles are turned towards the encircled shadow ; at the whistle blast, they tighten the circle around the lake ; the rebels, taken by the rear, leap out of the rocks ; Doucen, a last time, turns back, sun hits his face and his cock, he gazes at the valley drowned in a sunny mist, the fields, the houses, the trees, the birds of the sun: larks, robins, seagulls ; but turning back once again, he sees a rebel on the lake who, staring at him with his bright eyes under a bloody headband, is preparing his weapons, his fists. At the first impact, the crows shriek, wheel above the wrestling couple ; the scent of powder and blood flushing the veins caressed by the knife-blades warms up the frozen air. Doucen springs forward, he leaps over the intermingled bodies, he holds his dagger against his belly ; the hand grenades explode, the ice splashes Doucen's face and blinds him for a moment, the rebel rushes at him and knocks him down on the ice, crushing with his fist Doucen's throat and spitting on his eyes ; shouts, rattles rise in the sharp air ; reddened ice splits under the weight of the bodies, blood washes the black water ; daggers scratch the ice, rifles slide between the injured bodies ; a soldier and a rebel are wrestling by a rock ; a crow watches them, perched on the charred branches of a cedar ; blood runs forward on the rock wall, between the legs of the soldier pressed against the rock by the rebel ; the soldier tears the rebel's face with the jagged lid of a khaki can ; the rebel crushes with his belly the soldier's belly, little by little, and hitting, digging the lower part with his knee, he chokes the disarmed soldier. Doucen, strangled, rattles ; the rebel disarms him ; a soldier wounded at the throat, grabs Doucen's hand, turns his head towards him, his lips are trembling, blood rolls inside his mouth, a golden blood bubbles at the slit in his throat, he is unarmed, naked : the rebel has undressed him in haste and his already frozen limbs are covered with tatters lifted by the wind ; Doucen clasps that hand. All around, rebels and soldiers intertwined, all of them lying or bracing themselves on the ice, groan, spit, scream. In the first hours of morning, the sun precipitates the mists, the crows shake their shiny wings. The rebels flee carrying away their dead ; the dying soldiers are alone, lying, their cheeks, their foreheads on the ice ; their rattle makes the ice blue ; their knees, suddenly, shiver, their hands open, the shadows of the crows and of the clouds unfold upon the bodies stripped by the rebels' numbed fingers ; buttons, teeth, shreds of rubber bands are strewn across the reddened ice ; Doucen rises leaning on his bloody elbow, he crawls to the edge of the lake and he dies, his head buried in the sunny mist and gorged and scented with birds' chirps, children's screams, fumes from stills and sun lotion ; the dying soldiers see him rise over the ice, his legs drag on the rock, his cartridge belts hanging from his thighs and his belt squeezing his bare belly, the buckle pressing the navel, the crushed ice, reddened, runs along his hips, his face is tilted towards the sky ; the soldiers' eyes mist over, their fingers try to tear off the glazed membrane covering the iris, their throat is cooing ; rocks tumble down, in the high valleys of the Akouker ; a woman, the madam of the Ecbatane Overseas Club climbs the rocks ; then her black boot smeared with vomit, tramples, turns over the heads of the dead ; the soldiers she walks to, her knapsack gripped in her fist, hold out their arms, moan, crawl on their back, towards the rear ; but she, her mouth opened on her flashing teeth adorned with confetti and gossamer, grabs their opened hands and, squatting down, lifts their feet, their legs and drives them into the sack ; then lifts the stiffened body and, the soldier embracing with his arms her nape and her bosom, makes the rest of the body slide in the sack ; the soldier's head falls on his knee ; the woman drags the sack on the ice ; the soldiers still alive crawl towards the edge of the lake, clutch at the rocks and the trunks of the charred cedars ; but the woman separates their hands from the ash and from the rock ; when the last living soldier feels his knees and his belly stiffen and harden, Doucen and all the other soldiers are lying upon the ice at the spot and in the position where the fist, the dagger of the rebels threw and held them, before they lost consciousness. A pink light bathes the naked bodies, their wounds are mirrored inside the reformed ice. -Down in the city, the chiefs call for retaliation, the governor throws up his arms, signs a death sentence, washes his hands in the alcove, beats his forehead with his fists, the officers retire, kiss the order for the execution. In the assemblies, he enjoys astonishing them, he speaks of law to these men of force. In the corridors, if he hears a sound of boots, he hides in a little room for brooms and brushes. Since the beginning of the war, he never went out of the island. On the days of national or religious feasts, the military overrun the brothels and the sacristies of Inamenas ; the governor shuts himself up in his palace. Emilienne puts cakes in the sentries' mouth : inebriated, nauseated, their cheeks, their chest, their eyelashes smeared with cream and sugar, they lift the carpets, spew up, and trample their vomit? The governor, squatting on the carpet, Serge and Fabienne hugging his neck in their arms, opens up the herbaria ; Emilienne sitting on the edge of the sofa, is writing to her former friends of the orphanage ; under the paper, her knees are shining, Serge sees them, his lips become wet on the governor's shoulder ; the sentry leans against the door. Fabienne, behind the governor's head, watches the eyes and the foam on Serge's lips ; then, she flings her mouth on the governor's nape, kisses the artery of the throat ; the governor pushes away the face with his hand ; Serge, his eyes staring at Emilienne's crumpled belly, strokes the faded flowers and the stems from the herbarium : the rebels' cocks, dried up flowers and stems. Emilienne does not look up. Serge falls down in a faint, blood withdraws from his cheeks, his wrists, his knees ; his head has struck the governor's heel. In the evening, Emilienne, still looking down, feeds Serge with her own hand~: +Down in the city, the chiefs call for retaliation, the governor throws up his arms, signs a death sentence, washes his hands in the alcove, beats his forehead with his fists, the officers retire, kiss the order for the execution. In the assemblies, he enjoys astonishing them, he speaks of law to these men of force. In the corridors, if he hears a sound of boots, he hides in a little room for brooms and brushes. Since the beginning of the war, he never went out of the island. On the days of national or religious feasts, the military overrun the brothels and the sacristies of Inamenas ; the governor shuts himself up in his palace. Emilienne puts cakes in the sentries' mouth : inebriated, nauseated, their cheeks, their chest, their eyelashes smeared with cream and sugar, they lift the carpets, spew up, and trample their vomit~? The governor, squatting on the carpet, Serge and Fabienne hugging his neck in their arms, opens up the herbaria ; Emilienne sitting on the edge of the sofa, is writing to her former friends of the orphanage ; under the paper, her knees are shining, Serge sees them, his lips become wet on the governor's shoulder ; the sentry leans against the door. Fabienne, behind the governor's head, watches the eyes and the foam on Serge's lips ; then, she flings her mouth on the governor's nape, kisses the artery of the throat ; the governor pushes away the face with his hand ; Serge, his eyes staring at Emilienne's crumpled belly, strokes the faded flowers and the stems from the herbarium : the rebels' cocks, dried up flowers and stems. Emilienne does not look up. Serge falls down in a faint, blood withdraws from his cheeks, his wrists, his knees ; his head has struck the governor's heel. In the evening, Emilienne, still looking down, feeds Serge with her own hand~: --- As long as you will not have loved me yet, I will faint again. He licks the hand which is clasping the fruits, the cherries, the almonds ; Emilienne's phalanxes knock against his teeth. On the terrace, the governor is lying in a deck chair, Fabienne goes and sits on his knees ; her hand leaning on her father's penis, her arm, her other hand stroking the governor's ear and cheek~: ---- Why don't you want to love me the way you loved mummy ? Serge has Emilienne\ldots +--- Why don't you want to love me the way you loved mummy~? Serge has Emilienne\ldots Serge nibbles Emilienne's wrist, his hand comes out from the sheet, covers Emilienne's hip, moves up to the belly ; his teeth pierce the cherries~: @@ -719,7 +724,7 @@ Serge nibbles Emilienne's wrist, his hand comes out from the sheet, covers Emili He pulls on the dress at the place of her cunt. Emilienne sits at the edge of the bed, strokes the boy's knees through the sheet, Serge crosses them, his cock rolls on the thigh. Serge takes Emilienne's hand and pushes it under the sheet as far as her cunt ; Emilienne's throat quivers, her eyes see the night. ---- Could you play the whore all day round ? And I, my face bandaged, I pass by and you embrace me and you tickle me and you bite my laughter and you did not recognize me. You shake and you wash my cock in the basin, you spray perfume on your pubic hair. You dress me again, you buckle my belt. On the pavement, I pull off the bandage, the dockers catch you by the waist and shoulders, you smoke their cigarettes, they spit the wine in your ears. At dawn, back in the palace and lying by the governor's side, you gasp for breath. At breakfast, I smell your shoulders, and over the steam of tea, in your ear, I utter a cry from the brothel, I smack my lips and your cunt opens and sparkles under the transparent and creased silk\ldots +--- Could you play the whore all day round~? And I, my face bandaged, I pass by and you embrace me and you tickle me and you bite my laughter and you did not recognize me. You shake and you wash my cock in the basin, you spray perfume on your pubic hair. You dress me again, you buckle my belt. On the pavement, I pull off the bandage, the dockers catch you by the waist and shoulders, you smoke their cigarettes, they spit the wine in your ears. At dawn, back in the palace and lying by the governor's side, you gasp for breath. At breakfast, I smell your shoulders, and over the steam of tea, in your ear, I utter a cry from the brothel, I smack my lips and your cunt opens and sparkles under the transparent and creased silk\ldots Fabienne's foam wets the governor's cheek : a dance lights up under the barbed wire, the babies turn over and over on the straw, the sperm and semen of the dancers mating and dancing unbuttoned fall down again on their back and on their shaven head, mix with the fresh earth which their fingers dig between the couples' feet. @@ -749,15 +754,15 @@ Serge shivers, he leans his head towards the soldier, this one moves his rifle f \secbreak -Often, the soldiers deprived of their children or of their brothers, kiss the children along the roads, in the houses they plunder. If they find bedsheets inside those houses, they wrap them round their body, stroke them, they plunge in them their head and their penis. The palace sentries, in the suites of rooms, put their hand on the china and silver cutlery, on the wrong side of the sheets, on Emilienne's coats, on her dresses. But, on the first day of the third year of the war, the soldiers of Takintout post, back from a patrol in the sewers of insurgent Inamenas, after dark, fling themselves, half-naked, their bodies trembling under the tatters of soiled battledress, into the post's courtyard and drop down, all intermingled on the tent canvas unfolded upon the snow by the night sentries for the wind and the snow water to purify its fibres. Woken up at the same instant by the same suffocation, they make a rush, mouth shut, eyes closed, hands groping, for the post's staircase, and, their back touching the wet canvas, scream, cry, stroke each other's shoulders and knees. The lieutenant, barricaded in his room, candle put out, leans his forehead and his ear against the door and loads his automatic pistol. The native auxiliaries break open the kitchen door and, standing, bending, squatting, drive their rotting fangs into the quarters of fresh meat, tearing the shreds and burying them inside their shirt ; some of them, chest gorged with meat, drink straight from the oil bottles, wiping their hands with the vinegar ; some others, already satiated, mouth filled with vinegar, doze off, sprawled on the scraps of nerves and grease piled up under the suspended quarter ; gradually, the vomit accumulating in their throat and their cocks growing hard, they wake up, their legs roll over, their belly grows bare, their lips open, sweat shines in the lines of their hand, in the rings of their cocks erect on the unfastened buckle of the belt ; saucepans, ladles, mugs tumble down on the overturned shelves ; a moonbeam lights up inside : the ear of a young auxiliary whose head is caught between the thighs of a comrade who, head laid on the rim of a dishwater bucket nibbles a tuft of cress and with the other hand is casually wanking, a pearl with blue-tinged gleam ; clot of sperm or bit of garlic spat out\ldots\ The young auxiliary releases his head and crawls onto his comrade's body, their cocks wind round one another, the young auxiliary takes hold of his friend's shoulders he hoists himself up, he moves his chest forward onto the naked and oiled chest of the watercress chewer, he kisses the throat smeared with cress, he kisses on it the nerves and muscles meshed under the skin gashed by the erratic mastication, often hurried by orgasm then slowed down, the mouth remaining open and the thighs opening on the cock grown soft\ldots\ The sentries assemble in the watchtower adjoining the arcade ; pressed close together, they join their mouths to groan, scream, groan, while one of them, carrying the coffee cans in his fists, runs in the arcade ; the lukewarm and heavily sweetened coffee splashes the wattle of palms and lime ; the spilled coffee runs under the door of the lieutenant's room, gets close to the bed, drowns the cockroaches swarming in the screen ; then, rushing towards the crammed comrades, rifles raised sticking out above their half- naked shoulders, the sentry pours the coffee on their legs and, holding up both arms laden with cans, sprinkles the hair and the helmets ; then, all of them, writhing at the contact of the coffee dripping on their shoulder blades and on their loins, embrace each other ; the sentry throws her cans out of the watchtower, they jingle among the rocks soiled with rubbish ; he squats down, parts with his fists a comrade's legs and threads his way and draws himself up between the clenched limbs. Takintout village and regrouping centre, lies awake in the searchlight's beam : rats scamper by the foot of the slaughterhouse walls in the reddened snow ; the springing out of a sentry's elbow out of the shuddering group of which the clothes and the weapons gradually come undone, makes the searchlight tip up towards the sky : Takintout, in the rustling of the gumtrees, returns to the night's darkness from before the rebellion ; the children lying naked, their shit stuck to the straw matting and their night saliva drying on the fingers of their squatting mothers, whine ; the women sit up, hold their arms out towards the freshness poured by the window obstructed by snow ; the youths, sleepy pull their turban from underneath their buttocks and fasten it on their temples with veins swollen by frost ; the women take the buckwheat pancakes from the hearth's embers and, their jewellery clinking on the flooring tiles, blow off the flour, open the sacks wet with snow, hanging above the youths' matting and fragrant with the juniper tree brushed, bent, trimmed by them, at night, in the maquis. Standing, the upper part of the body bending under the roof of toub, they kiss their mothers, the scent of their breasts covered with lukewarm flour shrouds their throat and their downy cheeks ; the children, woken up, crawl on their mats and huddle around the embers shedding a dim light on their navel, their breasts and their eyes open under the scabs\ldots +Often, the soldiers deprived of their children or of their brothers, kiss the children along the roads, in the houses they plunder. If they find bedsheets inside those houses, they wrap them round their body, stroke them, they plunge in them their head and their penis. The palace sentries, in the suites of rooms, put their hand on the china and silver cutlery, on the wrong side of the sheets, on Emilienne's coats, on her dresses. But, on the first day of the third year of the war, the soldiers of Takintout post, back from a patrol in the sewers of insurgent Inamenas, after dark, fling themselves, half-naked, their bodies trembling under the tatters of soiled battledress, into the post's courtyard and drop down, all intermingled on the tent canvas unfolded upon the snow by the night sentries for the wind and the snow water to purify its fibres. Woken up at the same instant by the same suffocation, they make a rush, mouth shut, eyes closed, hands groping, for the post's staircase, and, their back touching the wet canvas, scream, cry, stroke each other's shoulders and knees. The lieutenant, barricaded in his room, candle put out, leans his forehead and his ear against the door and loads his automatic pistol. The native auxiliaries break open the kitchen door and, standing, bending, squatting, drive their rotting fangs into the quarters of fresh meat, tearing the shreds and burying them inside their shirt ; some of them, chest gorged with meat, drink straight from the oil bottles, wiping their hands with the vinegar ; some others, already satiated, mouth filled with vinegar, doze off, sprawled on the scraps of nerves and grease piled up under the suspended quarter ; gradually, the vomit accumulating in their throat and their cocks growing hard, they wake up, their legs roll over, their belly grows bare, their lips open, sweat shines in the lines of their hand, in the rings of their cocks erect on the unfastened buckle of the belt ; saucepans, ladles, mugs tumble down on the overturned shelves ; a moonbeam lights up inside : the ear of a young auxiliary whose head is caught between the thighs of a comrade who, head laid on the rim of a dishwater bucket nibbles a tuft of cress and with the other hand is casually wanking, a pearl with blue-tinged gleam ; clot of sperm or bit of garlic spat out\ldots\ The young auxiliary releases his head and crawls onto his comrade's body, their cocks wind round one another, the young auxiliary takes hold of his friend's shoulders he hoists himself up, he moves his chest forward onto the naked and oiled chest of the watercress chewer, he kisses the throat smeared with cress, he kisses on it the nerves and muscles meshed under the skin gashed by the erratic mastication, often hurried by orgasm then slowed down, the mouth remaining open and the thighs opening on the cock grown soft\ldots\ The sentries assemble in the watchtower adjoining the arcade ; pressed close together, they join their mouths to groan, scream, groan, while one of them, carrying the coffee cans in his fists, runs in the arcade ; the lukewarm and heavily sweetened coffee splashes the wattle of palms and lime ; the spilled coffee runs under the door of the lieutenant's room, gets close to the bed, drowns the cockroaches swarming in the screen ; then, rushing towards the crammed comrades, rifles raised sticking out above their half-naked shoulders, the sentry pours the coffee on their legs and, holding up both arms laden with cans, sprinkles the hair and the helmets ; then, all of them, writhing at the contact of the coffee dripping on their shoulder blades and on their loins, embrace each other ; the sentry throws her cans out of the watchtower, they jingle among the rocks soiled with rubbish ; he squats down, parts with his fists a comrade's legs and threads his way and draws himself up between the clenched limbs. Takintout village and regrouping centre, lies awake in the searchlight's beam : rats scamper by the foot of the slaughterhouse walls in the reddened snow ; the springing out of a sentry's elbow out of the shuddering group of which the clothes and the weapons gradually come undone, makes the searchlight tip up towards the sky : Takintout, in the rustling of the gumtrees, returns to the night's darkness from before the rebellion ; the children lying naked, their shit stuck to the straw matting and their night saliva drying on the fingers of their squatting mothers, whine ; the women sit up, hold their arms out towards the freshness poured by the window obstructed by snow ; the youths, sleepy pull their turban from underneath their buttocks and fasten it on their temples with veins swollen by frost ; the women take the buckwheat pancakes from the hearth's embers and, their jewelry clinking on the flooring tiles, blow off the flour, open the sacks wet with snow, hanging above the youths' matting and fragrant with the juniper tree brushed, bent, trimmed by them, at night, in the maquis. Standing, the upper part of the body bending under the roof of toub, they kiss their mothers, the scent of their breasts covered with lukewarm flour shrouds their throat and their downy cheeks ; the children, woken up, crawl on their mats and huddle around the embers shedding a dim light on their navel, their breasts and their eyes open under the scabs\ldots ---- Your little brothers who were pulling out roots under the rubbish saw your father knocked down over the parapet, his blood was running on the lime, the Frangaouia are beatifg his bare torso with their rifle butts ; your brothers, huddled at the bottom of the wall, drink, lick the blood ; the Fran\c{c}aouia, perched on the parapet, sprawled on your unconscious father, spit on their shaven heads, their spittle mixes with the blood on your brothers' lips\ldots\ Watch\ldots\ See\ldots\ they can't go to sleep, the searchlight's beam lights up their birth, lashes their turds, their sores, their pustules, it lightens your departure in the night and your return, my hand stirring the embers and kneading the pancakes shaken against your loins during the ambush\ldots +--- Your little brothers who were pulling out roots under the rubbish saw your father knocked down over the parapet, his blood was running on the lime, the Frangaouia are beating his bare torso with their rifle butts ; your brothers, huddled at the bottom of the wall, drink, lick the blood ; the Fran\c{c}aouia, perched on the parapet, sprawled on your unconscious father, spit on their shaven heads, their spittle mixes with the blood on your brothers' lips\ldots\ Watch\ldots\ See\ldots\ they can't go to sleep, the searchlight's beam lights up their birth, lashes their turds, their sores, their pustules, it lightens your departure in the night and your return, my hand stirring the embers and kneading the pancakes shaken against your loins during the ambush\ldots ---- Tonight, the beam lights up the sky, O stars ! judgment of the nations, libertarian heavenly bodies, O mother !\ldots\ listen to the footsteps of their astonished fauna ; the placards of utopia rustle with the stellar wind ; nations of wounded men arrived during the night, are lying there, ignoring the scenery of flowers and springs where the blazing of dawn awakens them ; earth then covers itself with new tools ; in every ground of different level and colour, a plough, put up, is waiting to be taken and my hands grip the wood covered with dew\ldots +--- Tonight, the beam lights up the sky, O stars~! judgment of the nations, libertarian heavenly bodies, O mother~!\ldots\ listen to the footsteps of their astonished fauna ; the placards of utopia rustle with the stellar wind ; nations of wounded men arrived during the night, are lying there, ignoring the scenery of flowers and springs where the blazing of dawn awakens them ; earth then covers itself with new tools ; in every ground of different level and colour, a plough, put up, is waiting to be taken and my hands grip the wood covered with dew\ldots The fresh snow covers the bodies piled up in the courtyard ; the doors of the latrine are banging and the wind blowing over the piles, pushes outside the frozen turds which, lifted up, roll over the soldiers' bodies, assault their loins, touch their lips. One of them, whose bare head is leaning against an outcrop of rocks, out of the tent canvas, shouts, his hands caught under a comrade's thighs and the group of sentries, face against face, at each one of his cries, whine, whimper, loins and back heated by the overturned searchlight\ldots ---- Death to the officers ! O my latrine, hug me stronger. I give you my wife. Throw my babies into the fire, to the dunghill, trample them under the foot of the marriage bed heavy with your intermingled bodies. She caresses, she kisses your worried muscles. Tear with your teeth rotten by the black meat and the bromided wine, tear with your tanned cock the linen hanging in the toilets, the linen fragrant with the talc and the vomit of the new-born. Ransack my furniture. The room exhales, you erect naked and wearing wool up to the knees, a fragrance of snow and grease. Strangle, knock senseless in their bed my father and my mother. Slaughter on his exercise books my brother dozing at the table. The bites of the native whores reopen on the lower part of your belly under the hair. Dig with your dagger, ear cutter, the polished flooring and free the spring singing for me child in the foundations. Lie down in its water and the cuttings and the earth and the cement powder covering your jaw, fuck my wife to death and, standing up again, squash her head in the stream blocked by sperm. And feeling light, rifle hanging from the shoulder and mosquito net tied around your loins, push the door and, once you reached the border, throw yourself into our arms laden with dying game. O ear cutter, hoist yourself up with us in the hollow between the branches warmed up by our turds. The smell of the married men's blood is shrouding the city. To it we prefer the fragrance of the bugs gorged with our blood. +--- Death to the officers~! O my latrine, hug me stronger. I give you my wife. Throw my babies into the fire, to the dunghill, trample them under the foot of the marriage bed heavy with your intermingled bodies. She caresses, she kisses your worried muscles. Tear with your teeth rotten by the black meat and the bromided wine, tear with your tanned cock the linen hanging in the toilets, the linen fragrant with the talc and the vomit of the new-born. Ransack my furniture. The room exhales, you erect naked and wearing wool up to the knees, a fragrance of snow and grease. Strangle, knock senseless in their bed my father and my mother. Slaughter on his exercise books my brother dozing at the table. The bites of the native whores reopen on the lower part of your belly under the hair. Dig with your dagger, ear cutter, the polished flooring and free the spring singing for me child in the foundations. Lie down in its water and the cuttings and the earth and the cement powder covering your jaw, fuck my wife to death and, standing up again, squash her head in the stream blocked by sperm. And feeling light, rifle hanging from the shoulder and mosquito net tied around your loins, push the door and, once you reached the border, throw yourself into our arms laden with dying game. O ear cutter, hoist yourself up with us in the hollow between the branches warmed up by our turds. The smell of the married men's blood is shrouding the city. To it we prefer the fragrance of the bugs gorged with our blood. --- O finger cutter I give you my wife. @@ -765,16 +770,16 @@ The fresh snow covers the bodies piled up in the courtyard ; the doors of the la --- O Bloody Scout, I give you my wife. By her side desire like the sun never goes to sleep\ldots -The kitchen door gives way : three auxiliaries clasped in each other's arms roll on the flooring tiles covered with ice ; their united mouths are gorged with fresh meat which the kiss squashes against the teeth ; their hands embrace their stripped loins : \speech{\ldots\ the feast of the free men draws to an end ; they vomit the honey cakes and the soda drinks against the pigsty's door ; the children, their throat laced by the confetti, the flag's dye melting on their sweaty chest underneath the shirt, they bend on the field adjoining the slaughterhouse, pick the dried grass ; the women pull the boilers on the sand. O my brothers, they are slaughtering the auxiliaries on the voting tables, the children are playing soccer with the decapitated heads in the sand ; a woman thrusts a ladle, a plate, a fork and spoon inside an auxiliary's decapitated neck ; a flock of cranes flees towards the border ; the sun irradiates the radio antenna ; then darkness covers the peak, the vomit drunk and eaten by the rats, fades away ; in the heart of night, a flower is born on the edge of the manure pile ; all of us, we squat down around it, Mouloud gives it the name of his mother, Mansour the name of his fianc\'{e}, Said the one of his child ; leaning over, they caress it ; the pigs bump into our hips. To conquer our fear and make supple our muscles numbed by humiliation, unbuttoned, we make love to each other, propping ourselves up, hands and feet scraping the mud and until dawn we intertwine, straining our joints, pulling the skin, juxtaposing our veins, mixing our locks and our wounds. In the morning it is only one man who climbs on the slaughterhouse's wooden parvis and who whipped by the rebels' brooms, plunges his leg in the boiling water scented with herbs and all his muscles from the ham up to the skull are seized ; blisters burst on his skin still dry ; but the strength of heat snaps his loins ; the upper part of his body, smashed, collapses : the head splits on the edge of the boiler ; the women come to stir the boiled pieces of flesh, they pull them out of water on palmtree staffs, they throw them on the children ; they run away but the women force them to devour those bits of boiled flesh ; the sun, at its zenith, hits the still water where the flesh is bathing ; children, women, executioners, dropping in the grass, on the wooden parvis, at the foot of the piles, are asleep ; blood boiis against their teeth ; birds dive into the water, they take away bits of flesh, they carry them to the hollows of the branches in the orchards ; in the evening, woken up, women, children, rebels, auxiliaries only wounded, hostages with smashed teeth roam under the peach trees and the apricot trees, chewing their flowers, smearing the weapons and the whips with pollen\ldots} +The kitchen door gives way : three auxiliaries clasped in each other's arms roll on the flooring tiles covered with ice ; their united mouths are gorged with fresh meat which the kiss squashes against the teeth ; their hands embrace their stripped loins : \speech{\ldots\ the feast of the free men draws to an end ; they vomit the honey cakes and the soda drinks against the pigsty's door ; the children, their throat laced by the confetti, the flag's dye melting on their sweaty chest underneath the shirt, they bend on the field adjoining the slaughterhouse, pick the dried grass ; the women pull the boilers on the sand. O my brothers, they are slaughtering the auxiliaries on the voting tables, the children are playing soccer with the decapitated heads in the sand ; a woman thrusts a ladle, a plate, a fork and spoon inside an auxiliary's decapitated neck ; a flock of cranes flees towards the border ; the sun irradiates the radio antenna ; then darkness covers the peak, the vomit drunk and eaten by the rats, fades away ; in the heart of night, a flower is born on the edge of the manure pile ; all of us, we squat down around it, Mouloud gives it the name of his mother, Mansour the name of his fianc\'ee, Said the one of his child ; leaning over, they caress it ; the pigs bump into our hips. To conquer our fear and make supple our muscles numbed by humiliation, unbuttoned, we make love to each other, propping ourselves up, hands and feet scraping the mud and until dawn we intertwine, straining our joints, pulling the skin, juxtaposing our veins, mixing our locks and our wounds. In the morning it is only one man who climbs on the slaughterhouse's wooden parvis and who whipped by the rebels' brooms, plunges his leg in the boiling water scented with herbs and all his muscles from the ham up to the skull are seized ; blisters burst on his skin still dry ; but the strength of heat snaps his loins ; the upper part of his body, smashed, collapses : the head splits on the edge of the boiler ; the women come to stir the boiled pieces of flesh, they pull them out of water on palmtree staffs, they throw them on the children ; they run away but the women force them to devour those bits of boiled flesh ; the sun, at its zenith, hits the still water where the flesh is bathing ; children, women, executioners, dropping in the grass, on the wooden parvis, at the foot of the piles, are asleep ; blood boils against their teeth ; birds dive into the water, they take away bits of flesh, they carry them to the hollows of the branches in the orchards ; in the evening, woken up, women, children, rebels, auxiliaries only wounded, hostages with smashed teeth roam under the peach trees and the apricot trees, chewing their flowers, smearing the weapons and the whips with pollen\ldots} -Snow covers the intertwined bodies ; the mouths, gorged with snow, are silent. The youths leap over the brooms, they bump into each other in the middle of the forehead, they laugh, they fight in the trampled snow ; the overturned searchlight's beam lights the higher snow. The lieutenant, at dawn, pushes the door of his room, he's gripping a piece of soap in his fist ; he moves forward in the arcade ; the group of sentries is asleep, crammed inside the watchtower ; the lieutenant squats down, presses the soap against the sentries' lips and draws a cross on their chest ; then, while the sentries get up and spit out the soap, he goes down to the courtyard, smears the lips of the soldiers and draws a cross on their chest ; then squatting down, he smears the open mouth of the auxiliaries where sperm sticks to the teeth and draws a cross on their oiled chest ; in the morning, he has a wooden frame brought and put up on the tent canvas, over which two soldiers lay down a pan of hot water ; he orders the lined up soldiers to undress and, their battledress thrown into a boiler held by two auxiliaries, to enter the water and to squat down there, one after the other, water closing up over their shoulders :\speech{\ldots\ Let the same water, soiled by the first of you, O my foster brothers, appease your muscles. Let the secretions of your wrath accumulate on the edge of the pan. And I whose hand has not touched cock nor wiped the wrath on my lips, I master the cry that my blood is carrying towards my throat. O you spirit and flesh combined ! O flesh fucking the spirit ! My animals, my hands. A scent of fuck bathes your hair your hands your voice ; the ambush is heavy with the smell of sperm ; a species of birds new over here, settles down in this fragrance you left behind in the valleys and the forests, build their nests in the tufts and in the cavities where you breathed, in your footsteps and the ruins made by your hands. It precedes you in the ambushes, it grapples on to your cock when you squat down, to your lips when you abuse the women. In the villages, children orphaned by your fists grasp your hips and go through your pockets gorged with war bread and coffeebags and the girls injected with your venom do not flee when you approach, the sun irradiating the black sweat of your loins. O my foster brothers ! I have sucked the milk of your mothers. Then lying beside the young girls in the parks, I sucked their lips and their breasts. Then in the summer of my natural mother's death my lips dry up and hereafter alone my fingers knead my cock to appease it. O my chest lean over the breast of a girl or of a sentry, what does it matter. O my mouth, release my cry of love ! O my tears, gush out, splash the belly where I press my cheek. O my thighs, O my knees, press tightly ! Your cheeks and your lips smile when the scent of my sperm, released, surrounds us. You hide your eyes under my armpit. Your belly withdraws from under mine. You fondle my balls reduced and grown hard ; and my unsheathed cock, while you lie in the opposite direction to me under me, you blow your fresh breath on its edge. A drop of sperm trembles and in a bluish flash rolls on your lips and the last drops still beading, you let them fall on your eyes wide open ; and, your eyelids closed over them, you fall asleep, your head under my propped up loins. I stroke, having lain down and leaned on my elbow next to you, your closed-up cunt inside which my wild sperm is toiling. I smell it. I kiss it. I behold it until dead of night. My hand caresses, takes the shape of, skirts round the breasts, the belly. I lean my face towards your breasts and I watch them breathe. My sperm dries upon your lips, between your eyelids. O my foster brothers ! You whose gesture at once implements the idea, draw by lots from amongst you the one who closing the door of my room on all of you busy with the fatigue duties of equipment and barracking, one moment dazzled by darkness, walks to my bed and by my order lies down there close to me. Then when weary of lying down and his belly purring with hunger, he rises and gets dressed again, I go down into the village and children smile at the scent of shot sperm and dogs and cats coil around my legs\ldots} +Snow covers the intertwined bodies ; the mouths, gorged with snow, are silent. The youths leap over the brooms, they bump into each other in the middle of the forehead, they laugh, they fight in the trampled snow ; the overturned searchlight's beam lights the higher snow. The lieutenant, at dawn, pushes the door of his room, he's gripping a piece of soap in his fist ; he moves forward in the arcade ; the group of sentries is asleep, crammed inside the watchtower ; the lieutenant squats down, presses the soap against the sentries' lips and draws a cross on their chest ; then, while the sentries get up and spit out the soap, he goes down to the courtyard, smears the lips of the soldiers and draws a cross on their chest ; then squatting down, he smears the open mouth of the auxiliaries where sperm sticks to the teeth and draws a cross on their oiled chest ; in the morning, he has a wooden frame brought and put up on the tent canvas, over which two soldiers lay down a pan of hot water ; he orders the lined up soldiers to undress and, their battledress thrown into a boiler held by two auxiliaries, to enter the water and to squat down there, one after the other, water closing up over their shoulders : \speech{\ldots\ Let the same water, soiled by the first of you, O my foster brothers, appease your muscles. Let the secretions of your wrath accumulate on the edge of the pan. And I whose hand has not touched cock nor wiped the wrath on my lips, I master the cry that my blood is carrying towards my throat. O you spirit and flesh combined~! O flesh fucking the spirit~! My animals, my hands. A scent of fuck bathes your hair your hands your voice ; the ambush is heavy with the smell of sperm ; a species of birds new over here, settles down in this fragrance you left behind in the valleys and the forests, build their nests in the tufts and in the cavities where you breathed, in your footsteps and the ruins made by your hands. It precedes you in the ambushes, it grapples on to your cock when you squat down, to your lips when you abuse the women. In the villages, children orphaned by your fists grasp your hips and go through your pockets gorged with war bread and coffeebags and the girls injected with your venom do not flee when you approach, the sun irradiating the black sweat of your loins. O my foster brothers~! I have sucked the milk of your mothers. Then lying beside the young girls in the parks, I sucked their lips and their breasts. Then in the summer of my natural mother's death my lips dry up and hereafter alone my fingers knead my cock to appease it. O my chest lean over the breast of a girl or of a sentry, what does it matter. O my mouth, release my cry of love~! O my tears, gush out, splash the belly where I press my cheek. O my thighs, O my knees, press tightly~! Your cheeks and your lips smile when the scent of my sperm, released, surrounds us. You hide your eyes under my armpit. Your belly withdraws from under mine. You fondle my balls reduced and grown hard ; and my unsheathed cock, while you lie in the opposite direction to me under me, you blow your fresh breath on its edge. A drop of sperm trembles and in a bluish flash rolls on your lips and the last drops still beading, you let them fall on your eyes wide open ; and, your eyelids closed over them, you fall asleep, your head under my propped up loins. I stroke, having lain down and leaned on my elbow next to you, your closed-up cunt inside which my wild sperm is toiling. I smell it. I kiss it. I behold it until dead of night. My hand caresses, takes the shape of, skirts round the breasts, the belly. I lean my face towards your breasts and I watch them breathe. My sperm dries upon your lips, between your eyelids. O my foster brothers~! You whose gesture at once implements the idea, draw by lots from amongst you the one who closing the door of my room on all of you busy with the fatigue duties of equipment and barracking, one moment dazzled by darkness, walks to my bed and by my order lies down there close to me. Then when weary of lying down and his belly purring with hunger, he rises and gets dressed again, I go down into the village and children smile at the scent of shot sperm and dogs and cats coil around my legs\ldots} -The youths, squatting in the deep end of the cave on the palm hurdles, are eating buckwheat pancakes ; snow covers the rocks around the cave's mouth ; weapons are thrown in piles between their bare feet ; their espadrilles are drying on the sand ; two crows, tied in the deep of the cave, are mating ; the youths laugh, head tilted backwards ; the lookout, perched in a cedar tree planted over the vault of the cave, warms up his fingers in the hair of his cock ; a fighter squadron sparkles for a moment in the blinding sky ; the lookout whistles ; the youths grab their weapons, put on their wet shoes and rush to the rock where the two crows are mating. But the squadron plunges over the sea beating its eyelid against the snowclad plain. Then the youths come out of the dark, they untie their espadrilles, they lie head to head on the sand under a fire of weeds which the sentry puts up on an outcrop of the rock : \speech{\ldots\ the Fran\c{c}aouia burn the palmtrees, napalm whizzes over the oued ; water carries the stones from the bombed houses ; a child cries at the bottom of a cradle carried away ; a barrage of palms and wicker stops the cradle : a soldier, unbuttoned and his cock beating the battledress, dashes forward, he leaps on the barrage which the torrent of ashy water presses back, he grabs the cradle, he holds the baby tight on his chest, he roars and he kisses the baby's loins. O my brothers with the mouth smeared of juniper gruel, the night of Independence, we lie down along the burst open pipes, we drink the water between the concrete blocks\ldots\ Two little girls, downstream from our lips, are dipping bloody linen, shreds of shirt and scarf of their fathers and of their brothers killed and tortured\ldots\ A naked youth, head bandaged, devours a worm straight from the earth, his mothers and his sisters hold him back by the hips and hide with their unfurled dresses the upper part of his body leaning heavily on the mud. The bodies of the traitor auxiliaries, hanging by the throat to the rusty hooks of the slaughterhouse, are spinning in the moonlight. An oid woman wipes her face on the reddened grass covering the slaughterhouse sewer. A child squatting under one of the hanging bodies, sucks the fresh blood\ldots} +The youths, squatting in the deep end of the cave on the palm hurdles, are eating buckwheat pancakes ; snow covers the rocks around the cave's mouth ; weapons are thrown in piles between their bare feet ; their espadrilles are drying on the sand ; two crows, tied in the deep of the cave, are mating ; the youths laugh, head tilted backwards ; the lookout, perched in a cedar tree planted over the vault of the cave, warms up his fingers in the hair of his cock ; a fighter squadron sparkles for a moment in the blinding sky ; the lookout whistles ; the youths grab their weapons, put on their wet shoes and rush to the rock where the two crows are mating. But the squadron plunges over the sea beating its eyelid against the snowclad plain. Then the youths come out of the dark, they untie their espadrilles, they lie head to head on the sand under a fire of weeds which the sentry puts up on an outcrop of the rock : \speech{\ldots\ the Fran\c{c}aouia burn the palmtrees, napalm whizzes over the oued ; water carries the stones from the bombed houses ; a child cries at the bottom of a cradle carried away ; a barrage of palms and wicker stops the cradle : a soldier, unbuttoned and his cock beating the battledress, dashes forward, he leaps on the barrage which the torrent of ashy water presses back, he grabs the cradle, he holds the baby tight on his chest, he roars and he kisses the baby's loins. O my brothers with the mouth smeared of juniper gruel, the night of Independence, we lie down along the burst open pipes, we drink the water between the concrete blocks\ldots\ Two little girls, downstream from our lips, are dipping bloody linen, shreds of shirt and scarf of their fathers and of their brothers killed and tortured\ldots\ A naked youth, head bandaged, devours a worm straight from the earth, his mothers and his sisters hold him back by the hips and hide with their unfurled dresses the upper part of his body leaning heavily on the mud. The bodies of the traitor auxiliaries, hanging by the throat to the rusty hooks of the slaughterhouse, are spinning in the moonlight. An old woman wipes her face on the reddened grass covering the slaughterhouse sewer. A child squatting under one of the hanging bodies, sucks the fresh blood\ldots} % TODO this one seems almost like a half-break? ask tvscorpion \secbreak -Giauhare, little emancipated slave from Ecbatane, sews on again the soldiers' buttons and repairs the tears of their battledress ; her flesh is smooth, her eyes slanted, her lips white ; the field officer who used to own her, bought her a laundry hollowed out in the outside wall of the Palace ; she lives there with her mother, and soldiers have regard for her ; the smell of fresh linen, of the washing, in the evening, crosses the street, goes up to the barrackroom windows ; the soldiers turn over on their straw mats, excited and languid at the same time ; the soldiers like the shop, they bury their arms in the baskets of fresh linen and breathe their hands. Giauhare goes from one basket to another, her dress brushes the knees of the soldiers sitting in the semi-darkness ; she prepares tea for her mother, straightens a collar, sews a battledress button on again, her hand grazing a soldier's neck or chin, the thimble knocking against the bare throat and slipping on the sweaty skin ; the soldier gives himself up to those transparent hands, he sees, shining through the fresh and hazy shadow, Giauhare's lips and the needle between them, he listens to the cracking thread and the purring hips of the young girl squatting in front of him. The most violent among the soldiers do not dare touch her ; soldiers are afraid of virgins. Often, in Ecbatane, the field officer, at night, wouid lift the curtain of the cubicle, where, still a slave, she slept. He bends over her, awoken and her chest panting, he opens the top of the blouse, his nails graze the nipples, his other hand tucks up the blouse, unbuttons his black pyjamas, but she, tears scintillating in her eyes, embraces the officer's neck with her thin arms. He takes them, unfastens them, he joins them at the wrists, he kisses them, his small golden chain, runs on Giauhare's breasts ; his breath smells of wine : at the corner of his lips, shines a rosy foam ; he wipes it with his fingers. +Giauhare, little emancipated slave from Ecbatane, sews on again the soldiers' buttons and repairs the tears of their battledress ; her flesh is smooth, her eyes slanted, her lips white ; the field officer who used to own her, bought her a laundry hollowed out in the outside wall of the Palace ; she lives there with her mother, and soldiers have regard for her ; the smell of fresh linen, of the washing, in the evening, crosses the street, goes up to the barrackroom windows ; the soldiers turn over on their straw mats, excited and languid at the same time ; the soldiers like the shop, they bury their arms in the baskets of fresh linen and breathe their hands. Giauhare goes from one basket to another, her dress brushes the knees of the soldiers sitting in the semi-darkness ; she prepares tea for her mother, straightens a collar, sews a battledress button on again, her hand grazing a soldier's neck or chin, the thimble knocking against the bare throat and slipping on the sweaty skin ; the soldier gives himself up to those transparent hands, he sees, shining through the fresh and hazy shadow, Giauhare's lips and the needle between them, he listens to the cracking thread and the purring hips of the young girl squatting in front of him. The most violent among the soldiers do not dare touch her ; soldiers are afraid of virgins. Often, in Ecbatane, the field officer, at night, would lift the curtain of the cubicle, where, still a slave, she slept. He bends over her, awoken and her chest panting, he opens the top of the blouse, his nails graze the nipples, his other hand tucks up the blouse, unbuttons his black pyjamas, but she, tears scintillating in her eyes, embraces the officer's neck with her thin arms. He takes them, unfastens them, he joins them at the wrists, he kisses them, his small golden chain, runs on Giauhare's breasts ; his breath smells of wine : at the corner of his lips, shines a rosy foam ; he wipes it with his fingers. \secbreak @@ -784,7 +789,7 @@ Serge, as a child, at the Junior College of Ouranopolis, is hungry ; his school The wind stifles his cry, the little slave dashes up the staircase, opens the door to the infirmary. Serge, leaning against the bars of the bed, holds a towel in his hand, the little slave moves nearer, Serge removes his rags, he lays them on the radiator, he rubs the little naked slave ; feeling giddy, he takes off his pyjamas very fast, he holds them out to the little slave, he flings himself on the unmade bed, breathes heavily, rolls his head over the pillow. The little slave slips on the pyjamas, he remains standing, bare feet on the torn linoleum~: % TODO ask tvscorpion if this is supposed to be noindent, of if this is an error -\noindent --- There is a sack of millet in the cupboard. Untie the lace and eat. +--- There is a sack of millet in the cupboard. Untie the lace and eat. The little slave plunges his hands in the sack, then his head, the grains jump among his hair. He climbs into the bed. @@ -800,7 +805,7 @@ In the morning, the priests pull the blanket : Serge is asleep, appeased, with o --- I brought you some coconuts, dad took films of the flying fish. -And she combs the boy's hair while pinching his chin. In front of the Father Superior's door, she bends again over him, licks the tip of her forefinger and passes it around thesboy's lips, she rubs with the wet palm of her hands, the boy's grazed knees~: +And she combs the boy's hair while pinching his chin. In front of the Father Superior's door, she bends again over him, licks the tip of her forefinger and passes it around the boy's lips, she rubs with the wet palm of her hands, the boy's grazed knees~: --- How come you are always so dirty, my boy. @@ -810,7 +815,7 @@ She pulls the blue velvet trousers by the hem of the thigh and scratches the sta \secbreak -The rebels live inside the caves. At night, they come down towards the villages, the doors open, the dogs yap. In the middle of the village, on an artificial peak, the infantry post with its four walls of bamboo and clay. The sentry walks along the arcade, gives a start at every call, listens to the doors and the dogs, the rustling of the fruit trees, fights against sleep, strokes the butt of his rifle ; the sling weighs on the shoulder. The soldier's face, his battledress still keep the scent of the zones crossed during the night ambush ; brambles, patches of mud mixed with remains of mosquitoes and marsh flowers, caught on the lower part of the battledress, cover the gap between the rubber-sdled canvas shoes and the cloth. In Autumn, soldiers gorge themselves of wild grapes ; the lips, the cheeks of the sentries are violet, their pockets bulging with figs and bunches of grapes, the juice runs through the cloth and drips on chest and thighs, forms around the waist a ring of sugar and filth which melts in the sweat of embraces. The soldiers who keep watch for the first time, are surprised not to see any other light than that of the moon. Inamenas, at night, closes its roads and its doors. Sentries watch over a deserted land : no moving lights between the trees, disappearing, appearing further or closer this time, frail lights, obstinate like the little flame running from the pyrotechnic wheel, between the fires and the gerbes. Only a few early trails of mist, a few smokes rising from the burnt down villages, a few trails of moon. Jackals whine in the valleys, on the hill slopes, among the piles of rubbish ; they dig up the forgotten charnels, unearth bodies of all kind and abandon them at dawn on the tracks, along the houses, corpses, masses of flesh and earth, shaken by the birds and quivering in the morning dew. When the jackals, at night, are hushed, it's because some rebels are on the march. And the soldiers cannot go to sleep ; in their drowsiness, some cover their cocks. They crowd under the arcade, surround the reassured sentry, put a hand on his shoulder, squabble, abuse each other in a low voice. At the far end of the arcade, the calls of the radio operator, the machine's peepings, the small lights of the transmitter and the fat hand of the operator lit by these and untangling the wires and turning the worn knobs. On the table, a pool of black coffee attracts mosquitoes, a piece of bread dries, eaten by the worms and soiled by the flies ; the moth wing's powder falls on the radio operator's bare shoulders, on his arms tensed by the handling of Morse. On the walls, photos of naked women which have been blackened by the hands and the arms and the knees and the soldiers standing on their camp beds rub their cocks against them. On the radio operator's bed, a little black and yellow dog, is asleep, its paw quivering. Cockroaches are running on the mud floor, grazing the operator's bare feet. He, drops the microphone and the pencil, the earphones slide down on his throat ; he raises and folds his legs under his thighs, he grabs the message, he swivels on the stool, the shorts, stretched, tear under the thighs~: +The rebels live inside the caves. At night, they come down towards the villages, the doors open, the dogs yap. In the middle of the village, on an artificial peak, the infantry post with its four walls of bamboo and clay. The sentry walks along the arcade, gives a start at every call, listens to the doors and the dogs, the rustling of the fruit trees, fights against sleep, strokes the butt of his rifle ; the sling weighs on the shoulder. The soldier's face, his battledress still keep the scent of the zones crossed during the night ambush ; brambles, patches of mud mixed with remains of mosquitoes and marsh flowers, caught on the lower part of the battledress, cover the gap between the rubber-soled canvas shoes and the cloth. In Autumn, soldiers gorge themselves of wild grapes ; the lips, the cheeks of the sentries are violet, their pockets bulging with figs and bunches of grapes, the juice runs through the cloth and drips on chest and thighs, forms around the waist a ring of sugar and filth which melts in the sweat of embraces. The soldiers who keep watch for the first time, are surprised not to see any other light than that of the moon. Inamenas, at night, closes its roads and its doors. Sentries watch over a deserted land : no moving lights between the trees, disappearing, appearing further or closer this time, frail lights, obstinate like the little flame running from the pyrotechnic wheel, between the fires and the gerbes. Only a few early trails of mist, a few smokes rising from the burnt down villages, a few trails of moon. Jackals whine in the valleys, on the hill slopes, among the piles of rubbish ; they dig up the forgotten charnels, unearth bodies of all kind and abandon them at dawn on the tracks, along the houses, corpses, masses of flesh and earth, shaken by the birds and quivering in the morning dew. When the jackals, at night, are hushed, it's because some rebels are on the march. And the soldiers cannot go to sleep ; in their drowsiness, some cover their cocks. They crowd under the arcade, surround the reassured sentry, put a hand on his shoulder, squabble, abuse each other in a low voice. At the far end of the arcade, the calls of the radio operator, the machine's peepings, the small lights of the transmitter and the fat hand of the operator lit by these and untangling the wires and turning the worn knobs. On the table, a pool of black coffee attracts mosquitoes, a piece of bread dries, eaten by the worms and soiled by the flies ; the moth wing's powder falls on the radio operator's bare shoulders, on his arms tensed by the handling of Morse. On the walls, photos of naked women which have been blackened by the hands and the arms and the knees and the soldiers standing on their camp beds rub their cocks against them. On the radio operator's bed, a little black and yellow dog, is asleep, its paw quivering. Cockroaches are running on the mud floor, grazing the operator's bare feet. He, drops the microphone and the pencil, the earphones slide down on his throat ; he raises and folds his legs under his thighs, he grabs the message, he swivels on the stool, the shorts, stretched, tear under the thighs~: --- Guys, an operation for tomorrow\ldots\ Baby, your transistor arrived at headquarters, the post orderly will bring it the day after tomorrow, but he wants to keep the box. @@ -830,7 +835,7 @@ They squat over the sparse grass. Two sentries remain by the edge of the hole. T Ro\"{\i}on's head rolls over the father's arm, the grandmother washes the blood on Ro\"{\i}on's lips and throat. -In occupied Ecbatane, the mother hangs the washed linen in the charcoal dust. Crazy Horse's brothers work, mixed in with the slaves, in the coal and gold mines. The bones and muscles of their arms and of their chest, shaken by the pneumatic drill, pierce through their skin. The father gets drunk and shows his cock in the estuary's gambling-dens. Crazy Horse, in the afternoon, his head made heavy by wine, rises from the straw mattress, his mother is beating the laundry at the entrance of the cellar ; the pipes of the building's cesspools burst during winter inside their room, a cellar dug out in the coal ; Crazy Horse, standing on tiptoe, watches through the basement window : women are walking on the pavement, he sees their legs, their creased feet, a tube of lipstick clinks and shines on the pavement. Crazy Horse moves his hand forward, takes the tube, a woman's hand then covers his hand ; the whore, squatting, bends down her head, strokes Crazy Horse's moist hand, she laughs, she sings softly, Crazy Horse touches her arm, the whore, squatting, turns up the iamé dress up to the belly, she takes Crazy Horse's hand and lays it between her thighs, on the creased underwear. Crazy Horse turns his head towards the threshold where his mother is beating the laundry, a small cooing swells her throat ; the mother looks up, brandishes the beater, the whore gets up and moves away ; Crazy Horse raises to his nostrils, and to his lips the humid and scented hand. All afternoon, Crazy Horse rubs his belly to the walls, to his mother's legs and hips. In the evening, he sits on the doorstep, his thighs spread open, cock bulging the shorts' pale blue cloth, forehead and knees wet with sweat. He opens and closes his thighs, he grasps his cock between his palms. An enemy man, on the backseat of a black limousine, taps the driver on the shoulder ; the car slows down, the enemy opens the door, he calls Crazy Horse, the boy stands up, he moves towards the car, the man pulls out an automaton from his shirt : a little shepherd playing the pipe ; the enemy takes Crazy Horse, who's holding the automaton against his uncovered chest, by his free hand, he drags the boy into the ruins and already, among the tall nettles, fondles his loins, the grimy cloth of the shorts over the buttocks, and while lifting them up ; Crazy Horse spits then on the enemy, he escapes, his brothers are walking in the street, he places himself in their midst, he takes the strongest one's hand, the automaton is whistling against his chest. +In occupied Ecbatane, the mother hangs the washed linen in the charcoal dust. Crazy Horse's brothers work, mixed in with the slaves, in the coal and gold mines. The bones and muscles of their arms and of their chest, shaken by the pneumatic drill, pierce through their skin. The father gets drunk and shows his cock in the estuary's gambling-dens. Crazy Horse, in the afternoon, his head made heavy by wine, rises from the straw mattress, his mother is beating the laundry at the entrance of the cellar ; the pipes of the building's cesspools burst during winter inside their room, a cellar dug out in the coal ; Crazy Horse, standing on tiptoe, watches through the basement window : women are walking on the pavement, he sees their legs, their creased feet, a tube of lipstick clinks and shines on the pavement. Crazy Horse moves his hand forward, takes the tube, a woman's hand then covers his hand ; the whore, squatting, bends down her head, strokes Crazy Horse's moist hand, she laughs, she sings softly, Crazy Horse touches her arm, the whore, squatting, turns up the lam\'e dress up to the belly, she takes Crazy Horse's hand and lays it between her thighs, on the creased underwear. Crazy Horse turns his head towards the threshold where his mother is beating the laundry, a small cooing swells her throat ; the mother looks up, brandishes the beater, the whore gets up and moves away ; Crazy Horse raises to his nostrils, and to his lips the humid and scented hand. All afternoon, Crazy Horse rubs his belly to the walls, to his mother's legs and hips. In the evening, he sits on the doorstep, his thighs spread open, cock bulging the shorts' pale blue cloth, forehead and knees wet with sweat. He opens and closes his thighs, he grasps his cock between his palms. An enemy man, on the backseat of a black limousine, taps the driver on the shoulder ; the car slows down, the enemy opens the door, he calls Crazy Horse, the boy stands up, he moves towards the car, the man pulls out an automaton from his shirt : a little shepherd playing the pipe ; the enemy takes Crazy Horse, who's holding the automaton against his uncovered chest, by his free hand, he drags the boy into the ruins and already, among the tall nettles, fondles his loins, the grimy cloth of the shorts over the buttocks, and while lifting them up ; Crazy Horse spits then on the enemy, he escapes, his brothers are walking in the street, he places himself in their midst, he takes the strongest one's hand, the automaton is whistling against his chest. Turds are gushing out of the tear in the pipe, the brothers bind the burst lead with floorcloths ; at night, the flow of turds touches the cheek of Crazy Horse asleep ; in the morning, the boy washes the soiled automaton, he lays it on the doorstep, he lowers his ear, he listens to the shepherd's pipe. Crazy Horse's gang runs down the street, the boys are holding hands, they escort Crazy Horse riding his old bike, they steal fruits, combs and tubes of brilliantine from the shop stalls : in the ruins, they smoke, hold contests of spitting and pissing, they comb, they lacquer their hair and rub their hands smeared with brilliantine to their hips or in the holes of their pockets. In the building's staircase, on the upper floors, doors are open, on the landings, and the boys watch the furious matings of lovers and adulteresses on the unmade beds, salivate, lick their lips, gasp in chorus ; they stop Novarina, a boy from Ecbatane's Junior College : he's carrying rice and sugar to an old woman, the boys snatch the parcels, go through Novarina's pockets and run away with the Mutual Aid's money ; at noon, they stop him again on the landing ; the old woman, who still paints her lips, inebriated, held him against the door then pushed him down on the bed littered with cats and kissed him on the mouth, in the cavity of the subsiding eiderdown ; he's carrying two pails of shit, he has one foot in the latrines opening on the landing, wind comes out from the hole and curls the cloth of his shorts up his thigh, and his hair on his forehead ; the boys grip him, Crazy Horse picks up the soiled papers, he crumples them on Novarina's lips and in his black hair. The boy struggles, Crazy Horse gags him with the papers ; then Crazy Horse lifts the pails' lids, the boys plunge Novarina's head in the first pail and hold it under the turds, Crazy Horse grabs the boy's feet, he plunges them in the second pail ; Novarina suffocates, shit covers his hair, the boys press his nape down, Crazy Horse strikes Novarina's buttocks and back with the broom, he drives it under the boy's shorts ; the boys, the front of their body all splashed, laugh. The boy's back grows hollow, his nape quivers, his choked cry stirs the turds in the pail ; his whole body is soiled ; Crazy Horse, with the broom, paints his bare legs. When the boys release him, the body collapses between the two pails ; Crazy Horse strikes, then sperm spurts out of his hardened cock and wets his thighs, foam bathes his chin ; sperm darkens the shorts' blue cloth and runs down on his knees ; the boys notice it, they step aside, they run away ; Crazy Horse again, strikes Novarina's nape : again, sperm splashes his thighs, tears stream down as far as his shirt's collar. He throws the broom in the latrines, he lifts Novarina's shoulders, the head comes out of the pail, the mouth, livid, is open, liquid shit runs on the eyes, on the ears, out of the mouth ; Crazy Horse lifts the head by the hair, with his other hand, he wipes Novarina's eyelids, he caresses the eyes with the tip of the fingers ; his heart throbbing, he takes the body under the waist, he lifts it up in his arms, he lays it in the latrines, he picks up the broom, he hangs it on the soiled wall ; on the edge of the window, ringed worms are basking in the sun ; Crazy Horse carries the pails to the latrines, he unhooks the door bolt ; he squats down, he pulls his cock out of his shorts, he shakes it, sperm spatters his legs and the steps. The boy's body lying across the hole, his belly under Crazy Horse's buttocks, is bathed by the sun. Crazy Horse gets up, he buttons his shorts, he leans over Novarina's soiled body, he blows on his eyes, on his lips, he unfastens his belt, unbuttons the boy's shorts and shirt, he covers the chest and the belly with his hand : the heart, the throat, everywhere he removes the shit, unsticks the clothes. He sets his lips on the soiled ones of the boy, he blows into his mouth, his tongue touches the tongue of the boy. Then, his hands leaning on the stoneware and his palms brushing the heap of turds and papers, he bites his head ; but the boy is dead, and in Ecbatane's sky, the bombers cast shadow under their glistening bodies. With the screams of sirens, women, children, leap down the stairs : children's fists against the latrines' door. Crazy Horse puts his fists on his ears, he leans his back to the wall ; the building shakes under the downpour, it falls in ; by evening, among the rubble, his nostrils open to the scents of broken wood, a young soldier wearing a light helmet, discovers the enlaced bodies of Crazy Horse and Novarina. @@ -864,7 +869,7 @@ The young man drags Crazy Horse to his cabin, he holds him against the bulkhead The young man, his wolf's mask thrown on the floor, knocks down Crazy Horse on the bed, trampling and biting the soldier's throat ; Crazy Horse, his forehead heated by the spirits he drank at the district, gives himself up to the hands, nails and lips of the young man, who, with his hands moist and furious as flies, pulls back against the boy's half-naked body the lace and embroidering of the bedspread. Their sperm squirts out, spatters, sparkles in the moonlight, shimmers, poured out over Crazy Horse's belly. The young man crawls, writhes, pants over the naked boy, he opens the thighs with his knee, he holds at the same time, in his fist, the boy's cock and his own ; Crazy Horse's foot, tight, sweating inside the rope-soled shoe, brushes the fruits in the bowl, and the heel's sweat mingles with the juice secreted by the fruits' rents. The cutter pitches, Crazy Horse, the young man's burning tongue scouring his forehead and his eyes, pulls away his hand caught under the young man's fist, he covers his mouth with it, but the young man bites that hand, he spits into it, he closes it up, saliva comes out between the boy's fingers, the young man opens the hand again, he rubs it to his uncovered chest, then to his cock. -The porthole is open on the night, the seabirds cross the moonlight ; Crazy Horse, mouth distended by vomnit, lifts his loins out of the bedspread's folds : sweat runs between his buttocks ; on deck, soldiers lying besides the girl, take her in turn, without changing beds : their sperm scintillates on the girl's half-open cunt. The young man opens his hand on Crazy Horse's belly, he lifts himself up a little on the fist, he spreads the sperm over the boy's chest, up to the throat, glues and combs the down and the hair of the torso, of the armpits ; then, he turns over the boy on his belly, he picks up the wolf's mask, he puts it on, he kneels down, his thighs squeezing the boy's loins. Crazy Horse, his head buried in the lace, vomits, chokes, the young man strokes the quivers of his shoulders, the young man's cock beats against the upper part of the boy's buttocks ; vomit moves forward under Crazy Horse's throat, under his chest. +The porthole is open on the night, the seabirds cross the moonlight ; Crazy Horse, mouth distended by vomit, lifts his loins out of the bedspread's folds : sweat runs between his buttocks ; on deck, soldiers lying besides the girl, take her in turn, without changing beds : their sperm scintillates on the girl's half-open cunt. The young man opens his hand on Crazy Horse's belly, he lifts himself up a little on the fist, he spreads the sperm over the boy's chest, up to the throat, glues and combs the down and the hair of the torso, of the armpits ; then, he turns over the boy on his belly, he picks up the wolf's mask, he puts it on, he kneels down, his thighs squeezing the boy's loins. Crazy Horse, his head buried in the lace, vomits, chokes, the young man strokes the quivers of his shoulders, the young man's cock beats against the upper part of the boy's buttocks ; vomit moves forward under Crazy Horse's throat, under his chest. \secbreak @@ -873,7 +878,7 @@ At dawn, money is running in his hand ; stars have gone out ; Crazy Horse, showe --- Go away. Go away. Wind is burning me. % TODO double check noindent with tvscorpion -\noindent The young man covers his face with the sheet, the money chinks on the planking, Crazy Horse squats down ; the young man throws his hand risen out of the sheet : a coin hits the boy's forehead, he bursts out laughing, he has a drop of sperm behind the ear, at the tip of a lock from his fair hair. Crazy Horse, in the kitchens, sits in front of the bowl of steaming milk ; the girl strokes his shoulder, milk burns the boy's lips, the cream froths under his nostrils. The top of the girl's blouse is unbuttoned ; Crazy Horse places there his hand warmed up by holding the bowl, the girl gives a start, her lip bears a ring~: +The young man covers his face with the sheet, the money chinks on the planking, Crazy Horse squats down ; the young man throws his hand risen out of the sheet : a coin hits the boy's forehead, he bursts out laughing, he has a drop of sperm behind the ear, at the tip of a lock from his fair hair. Crazy Horse, in the kitchens, sits in front of the bowl of steaming milk ; the girl strokes his shoulder, milk burns the boy's lips, the cream froths under his nostrils. The top of the girl's blouse is unbuttoned ; Crazy Horse places there his hand warmed up by holding the bowl, the girl gives a start, her lip bears a ring~: --- He bought me in exchange for a boy he wanted to get rid of, for one night he bit and injured the end of his penis. This way, through me, he lures soldiers from the district to the cutter and while he fucks you, the soldiers turn me over and tear me. He cannot bear making love alone, in secret and against nature. Often shame grips him, he sets sail towards the high seas. On the third night, he rings the bell : kneeling at his feet, he leaning against the bed and stiffening his legs, I press his cock and I give him a wank, his hands pull at my hair. In the morning, he orders the sailor to return to Ecbatane, he rubs against him. The two painted men follow him everywhere, they flatten themselves, legs spread out, to the doors, before he opens them ; they fall asleep, in the afternoon, on the ropes, enlaced and their rosy cocks sticking out of their blue-jeans, but he does not touch them ; until night he stares at the land, thighs tight on a vibrating rigging. The sailor has only just anchored in front of the cove, the two painted men jump into the boat : the Tcherkesse, on the shore, are beating their soaked tatters on the shingles : a little Tcherkesse runs to the district, the post commander goes up to the idle soldiers on the barracks stairs, those returning from the clubs, having lost their money in drink and gambling. My master wants to fuck only soldiers ; before fucking them, he does not make them pass under the shower, he prefers to lick on their body the blood of the squashed bugs, on their lips, the traces of the gulped down soup. He takes them on the point of leaving for Inamenas, they then come out of basic training, tough, cheeks grazed, hands pierced by blisters, muscles bulging, beaten, restless. @@ -891,7 +896,7 @@ Crazy Horse, on his days off in Inamenas, hangs his mirror to the bamboo of his In the street, Crazy Horse, his eyes dazzled, his teeth bared, makes his Mat's breech click. A woman, widowed, saw him march past ; he reminded her of her husband and her son both killed in the great Ecbatane war, she has Crazy Horse called to the police station. -All afternoon, she stuffs him with cakes and fruits, he follows her to the wash-house, they sit on the cement ; the other washerwomen laugh over the water ; they quiver at the soldier's white gaze, the backwash of the soapy water wets his buttocks rolled on the cement. The noise of the beaters makes him turn pale, foam scintillates at the corner of his lips ; the Mat's barrel lies in the foam : the woman takes her hands out of it ; Crazy Horse lifts the basket, he carries it against his belly ; in the laundry, at the woman's, he sits on a stool, his cheeks are gleaming, his lips relax ; but when the woman once again beats the washing, he jumps up, he rushes towards her, he snatches the beaters from her hands, he throws them to the ceiling, he spits in the woman's face, he plunges her head in the foam ; she struggles, her fingers pinch Crazy's thighs. He, weakens, his knees, his wrists are shaking ; she pulls her head out of the foam, she pushes the soldier into her room, she knocks him down on the bed, she fondles his pale and frozen face, his quivering lips, his thighs where the battledress's cloth is swollen and wet, sperm having spurted out in wrath ; with her tongue, she unclenches his teeth~: +All afternoon, she stuffs him with cakes and fruits, he follows her to the wash-house, they sit on the cement ; the other washerwomen laugh over the water ; they quiver at the soldier's white gaze, the backwash of the soapy water wets his buttocks rolled on the cement. The noise of the beaters makes him turn pale, foam scintillates at the corner of his lips ; the Mat's barrel lies in the foam : the woman takes her hands out of it ; Crazy Horse lifts the basket, he carries it against his belly ; in the laundry, at the woman's, he sits on a stool, his cheeks are gleaming, his lips relax ; but when the woman once again beats the washing, he jumps up, he rushes towards her, he snatches the beaters from her hands, he throws them to the ceiling, he spits in the woman's face, he plunges her head in the foam ; she struggles, her fingers pinch Crazy's thighs. He, weakens, his knees, his wrists are shaking ; she pulls her head out of the foam, she pushes the soldier into her room, she knocks him down on the bed, she fondles his pale and frozen face, his quivering lips, his thighs where the battledress' cloth is swollen and wet, sperm having spurted out in wrath ; with her tongue, she unclenches his teeth~: --- My baby, my mud\ldots\ my love bite\ldots @@ -925,7 +930,7 @@ The soldiers crowd around the body ; two of them squat down, they pull out their The two soldiers pick up stones, drive them inside the torn belly ; the blood and bowels, forced back, overflow ; the soldiers trample the belly swollen by stones ; the young man's slashed hands crash down, convulsive, covered with angry flies, on his cheeks and on his eyelids ; two soldiers, shoes soaking wet, lips foaming, jaw bulging, teeth clenched. A soldier tramples the head under his foot, the studded shoe tears the ear. The boy, hearing the rattle of his eviscerated father, whines, the foam swells and bursts on his lips ; Crazy Horse steps forward, he grabs the boy by the hair, he draws his dagger, he cuts with one thrust of his blade the edge of the boy's lips and gum, the blade scratches the teeth ; the boy, his wrists tied up, chokes, he falls, head on the stones ; the rope vibrates between his back and the wheel of the command-car. Crazy Horse raises his dagger, he lifts the boy's head, he makes it roll against the shoulder, he lowers his dagger gripped in the fist ; but the radio operator, in one leap, steps over the front seat, holds Crazy Horse's arm back ; his eyes glare at the soldier : Crazy Horse looks down~: ---- \ldots\ the ears only, please, radio ?\ldots +--- \ldots\ the ears only, please, radio~?\ldots The boy, his hair pulled in the soldier's fist, trembles, snot runs on his torn lips and on his chin ; his tongue drinks the blood from his gums. The soldier wipes the bloody blade between his fingers, he sheathes the dagger ; the radio operator looks away, the vomit gushes out of his mouth, splashes the mudguard ; Crazy Horse strokes his shaking shoulders ; a soldier leaps forward, cuts the bonds at the boy's wrists, tilts the head back on the overheated bonnet, the blood and the vomit on the boy's back sizzle, fume ; the soldier presses his fist on the boy's chest ; the child's legs strike the radiator covered with burnt butterflies and birds ; the soldier draws his dagger, he thrusts it in the child's throat, before he could lower his chin upon his throat ; blood spurts out, splashes the hair of the radio operator leaning over the mudguard, and vomiting in jerks. The operator stands up straight again, he grabs the soldier by the throat ; Crazy Horse, stares, with his white gaze, at the seething wound where the sun casts a golden glow upon the fresh blood. He laughs, tears sparkle under his eyelids and burn them. The radio operator, helped by Crazy Horse, digs a grave, they take down both bodies, throw the earth and trample it. The silent soldiers are sitting in the command-car. The radio operator digs the earth around the bloodstains and covers them. The fish cans, torn, half-opened like shells, glitter on the red earth. The radio operator climbs back into the command-car, puts his receivers on. Crazy Horse smokes ; the canvas shoes and the bottom of the battledress and the hands of the commandos are scintillating, the blood drips and reddens the dust upon the metal ; the operator wipes with a greasing rag his lips and his chin soiled with vomit~: @@ -936,11 +941,11 @@ The black rain knocks down the cocks in the slush, weighs down the command-car's --- Corpses, loved bodies in the past, I forbid all living men to look at you. I call all the flesh-eating beasts\ldots A young sister brings the pot of boiling tea ; the commandos hold out, clash, their battered mugs. The radio operator plunges his hair in water, the young sister brings the pot back, her robe brushes the operator's loins, the steam from the tea makes his wet back shudder ; the young sister lays the pot on the oven, she stands at the kitchen door, the operator looks up, he presses his hair, he pulls off his sweater, he rubs his hair with the sleeves ; the young sister takes a piece -of linen on the string stretched over the oven, she comes near the operator, she lays the lukewarm linen on his bare shoulder ; the operator looks back, she lowers her young lioness's face under the coiffe ; the operator shakes his sweater, he wrings it, he slips it on his back ; the young sister steps forward, flings her mouth on the sweater, at the shoulder : her lips touch the blood on the khaki wool, her tongue licks it, her eyes close ; the operator leans his head on the young sister's forehead ; she, pulling her lips away from the shoulder, flees in the vestibule, her lips bloody ; the radio operator runs after her, he holds her against a window, he nibbles the coiffe ; the young sister's head is pinned, nailed to the pane like a moth ; he kisses her on the eyes, on the mouth, his nails scratch the pane ; the young sister struggles, crucified under the soldier's belly ; against her chest, the dampness of the sweater ; against her eyes, the soldier's breath ; against her nape and her shoulders, the cold of the pane spattered with rain ; the operator's little dog jumps off sleeping Crazy Horse's knees, it runs across the vestibule, it licks the operator's legs, stands up, nibbles the battledress where it is stretched by the hardened penis ; a blow with the knee knocks it down on the tiled floor; the radio operator steps away, the released sister escapes, locks herself up inside the kitchen cubicle ; the radio operator, pushing his little dog in front of him, goes to the dining hall, he shivers, all the commandos are asleep, their forehead on the table linoleum ; the operator takes his mug of tea from next to Crazy Horse's hair, he picks up his rations, he presses his warmed up mug against his chest, he walks through the kitchen, through the pottery workshop where the sisters work under the neon tubes, their breast and arms smeared with clay, he enters the dark chapel, he kneels down, he walks up to the altar lit only by the workshop's neon tubes, he lays the mug and the rations upon the altar cloth, he sits on the edge of the altar, he draws a cross on the war bread, he bends over, he lies on his side, his elbow stretches the cloth ; he eats the war bread, the fish, swallows the tepid tea like a light blood and the blood from the slaughtered boy he took on the young sister's lips dissolves in the tea. +of linen on the string stretched over the oven, she comes near the operator, she lays the lukewarm linen on his bare shoulder ; the operator looks back, she lowers her young lioness' face under the coif ; the operator shakes his sweater, he wrings it, he slips it on his back ; the young sister steps forward, flings her mouth on the sweater, at the shoulder : her lips touch the blood on the khaki wool, her tongue licks it, her eyes close ; the operator leans his head on the young sister's forehead ; she, pulling her lips away from the shoulder, flees in the vestibule, her lips bloody ; the radio operator runs after her, he holds her against a window, he nibbles the coif ; the young sister's head is pinned, nailed to the pane like a moth ; he kisses her on the eyes, on the mouth, his nails scratch the pane ; the young sister struggles, crucified under the soldier's belly ; against her chest, the dampness of the sweater ; against her eyes, the soldier's breath ; against her nape and her shoulders, the cold of the pane spattered with rain ; the operator's little dog jumps off sleeping Crazy Horse's knees, it runs across the vestibule, it licks the operator's legs, stands up, nibbles the battledress where it is stretched by the hardened penis ; a blow with the knee knocks it down on the tiled floor; the radio operator steps away, the released sister escapes, locks herself up inside the kitchen cubicle ; the radio operator, pushing his little dog in front of him, goes to the dining hall, he shivers, all the commandos are asleep, their forehead on the table linoleum ; the operator takes his mug of tea from next to Crazy Horse's hair, he picks up his rations, he presses his warmed up mug against his chest, he walks through the kitchen, through the pottery workshop where the sisters work under the neon tubes, their breast and arms smeared with clay, he enters the dark chapel, he kneels down, he walks up to the altar lit only by the workshop's neon tubes, he lays the mug and the rations upon the altar cloth, he sits on the edge of the altar, he draws a cross on the war bread, he bends over, he lies on his side, his elbow stretches the cloth ; he eats the war bread, the fish, swallows the tepid tea like a light blood and the blood from the slaughtered boy he took on the young sister's lips dissolves in the tea. In camp, until dawn, Crazy Horse and the platoon commander, belly swelled with tea, beer and wine, intermixed on the mess tables, sweep away with their hand the lines of empty bottles ; a prisoner woken up by the soldiers and out from jail, picks up the broken glass on the tiled floor. The other prisoners bustle about in the pigsty, between the squalling pigs. A young officer with his head wrapped in a bloodstained bandage leaps on the courtyard flagstones between the puddles, with his electric torch he lights the face of the sentry leaning to the pigsty door bumped into by the prisoners with opened shirts and the black pigs. The soldier shuts his eyes, a smile dies upon his cheeks, the lamp searches the crusted-over eyelashes ; vomit is drying on the collar of his shirt~: ---- You were wanking ?\ldots\ Listen to their voices, and they want to rule on their own\ldots +--- You were wanking~?\ldots\ Listen to their voices, and they want to rule on their own\ldots He bangs the door with his shoe, the pigs fall silent, their turds splash the prisoners' hands. @@ -956,7 +961,7 @@ Kment quivers at the start and the cry from the sleeper, he moves back towards t --- My mother, love me more gently : the scar is bursting. My mother, bring me some dessert. -But she, moaning, bites the boy's livid lips, saliva runs on his cheeks, wets the pillow. A fire is burning army clothes, underneath the window, below the terraced orchard, the smoke darkens the pane, under the blind. The boy's knees rise under the sheet ; the young woman sits up straight again, her hand trembles under the boy's belly, on the penis's brown hair~: +But she, moaning, bites the boy's livid lips, saliva runs on his cheeks, wets the pillow. A fire is burning army clothes, underneath the window, below the terraced orchard, the smoke darkens the pane, under the blind. The boy's knees rise under the sheet ; the young woman sits up straight again, her hand trembles under the boy's belly, on the penis' brown hair~: --- My mother, do not touch. My father, while sounding me, would guess the mark of your fingers. Already, he recognizes your perfume on my chest and in my hair. @@ -964,7 +969,7 @@ The sleeper asleep again, Kment escapes : the clothes, in the cupboard, regain t Kment buries his thefts under the rotten sheets of his mother's bed. The father searches under the sheets, Kment appears, he strikes the father on the forehead, he spits in his eyes, he knocks him down on the mud floor, he tramples him: Kment and his brothers, sitting against the dividing wall, throw him pieces of meat, he crawls on the mud floor, moves his hand forward ; Kment, with his stick, pushes the piece away ; the father foams with rage, crawls, he lets his clothes slip off his loins. The meat is burning on the brazier, Kment and his brothers tear it apart, they burn their fingers --- lips and shreds red in the semi-darkness. -The sisters --- the top of their dress bloody --- comb their hair in front of the broken mirror, paint their lips ; the younger one puts red everywhere, as far as on her hair : the father crawls towards her, he grabs her leg, he sets his wet mouth on the little girl's muddy knee : she, brisk, looks back, she grips the nail file in her fist ; she pricks the father's forehead, blood spurts, splashes the wrist. Kment, a shred of meat hanging from his teeth, bursts out laughing ; his hand, closed, pricks his knee ; his brothers tear off a quarter of meat, they wolf it together, they bite each other's lips ; the door bangs in the dust ; the girls, all made up under their dusty hair, pass their hands between their breasts, under the dress's neckline, take the creases out of the bloody cloth ; the hand covers the breast, pulls it out of the dress, saliva squirts out on the fingertips, the hand rubs the nipple, the skin, soft and red under the nipple's filth ; the filth slides in powder onto the breast ; the hand supports the breast marked with imprints, of nail scratches, of teeth, of badges, of army buckles. +The sisters --- the top of their dress bloody --- comb their hair in front of the broken mirror, paint their lips ; the younger one puts red everywhere, as far as on her hair : the father crawls towards her, he grabs her leg, he sets his wet mouth on the little girl's muddy knee : she, brisk, looks back, she grips the nail file in her fist ; she pricks the father's forehead, blood spurts, splashes the wrist. Kment, a shred of meat hanging from his teeth, bursts out laughing ; his hand, closed, pricks his knee ; his brothers tear off a quarter of meat, they wolf it together, they bite each other's lips ; the door bangs in the dust ; the girls, all made up under their dusty hair, pass their hands between their breasts, under the dress' neckline, take the creases out of the bloody cloth ; the hand covers the breast, pulls it out of the dress, saliva squirts out on the fingertips, the hand rubs the nipple, the skin, soft and red under the nipple's filth ; the filth slides in powder onto the breast ; the hand supports the breast marked with imprints, of nail scratches, of teeth, of badges, of army buckles. Kment gets up, he spits out the shred of meat, he hugs his sister, his hands cover those of the girl underneath her breasts ; Kment, his hair running over his sister's shoulder, opens his mouth, moves his lips towards the breasts, the girl tilts her head backwards, her mouth licks Kment's ear, the honey scintillating deep inside~: @@ -994,22 +999,22 @@ A small purple bird, lame, hops on the outside edge of the latticed window~: Kment hugs the laughing little body through the sheet. A boy comes in, carrying fresh sheets ; he lays them on the bedstead ; he squats down, squeezes the sponge over the bucket, he lifts the bucket, he takes it into the corridor, he fills it with red and sandy water --- a sand wind covers Inamenas --- he brings it back, he lays it on the linoleum, his finger pulls a filament of sperm stuck to the edge of the bucket ; the boy rubs it to his jeans, on the knee ; he stands up straight again, he taps on the bedstead, Kment pulls the brother's arm out of the sheet, the boy pulls the other arm : the head appears, throat bathed in wine vomit, lips bitten till blood was drawn : Kment looks down~: ---- Love, you feel hot ?\ldots\ You're sitting on your little eggs ?\ldots\ The madam is coming up to pick them from under you. Get out of bed, quick. +--- Love, you feel hot~?\ldots\ You're sitting on your little eggs~?\ldots\ The madam is coming up to pick them from under you. Get out of bed, quick. The child raises his leg, he gets up on his elbows, he pushes the sheet away, he stands up, a foot in his vomit ; Kment takes him and lifts him up by the waist, he pushes him in the corridor, he plunges his head and neck in the washbasin ; the boy pulls the sheets off, he throws them in a heap on the linoleum, with the sponge he cleans the stain on the mattress, he unfolds the fresh sheets, he makes the bed again ; the brother, his mouth over the water, holds with his fists, the edge of the-washbasin~: ---- The purple bird, Kment, comes and sings on the edge of the window when the shadow of the man, the woman client covers my belly. Kment, can the women clients have babies with me ? The madam says she throws them on the manure heap. I want to keep mine. All clients, today, men, women, wanted babies, all cried over the pillow, implored the whores. The madam says it's because of Spring which softens the skin of the cock and the skin of the heart. Kment, a customer came this morning, he laid his instrument on the bed : I was naked on the bed ; he didn't touch me ; he took flowers and leaves from his shirt, he'd spit on them, he was shaking them ; his eyes and his mouth are painted like those of a clown ; he brings the leaves and the flowers over my belly : \said{Revive these dead flowers and leaves, you, child.} I get up, I press my fist on the bedstead, I stiffen, I wank, the client presses his ear to my little panting chest, the breath of my hardening cock bathes his face : sperm gushes out, spatters the dead flowers and leaves : \said{Love, I thank you, I take them with me, refreshed by your dew.} He then takes my gluey cock from which my trembling hand withdraws, he sets his lips there, he drinks the drops of forced back sperm ; my other hand, sweating, leaves marks on the wood's varnish. On his lips, there is some blood and the end of my cock is reddened by it. +--- The purple bird, Kment, comes and sings on the edge of the window when the shadow of the man, the woman client covers my belly. Kment, can the women clients have babies with me~? The madam says she throws them on the manure heap. I want to keep mine. All clients, today, men, women, wanted babies, all cried over the pillow, implored the whores. The madam says it's because of Spring which softens the skin of the cock and the skin of the heart. Kment, a customer came this morning, he laid his instrument on the bed : I was naked on the bed ; he didn't touch me ; he took flowers and leaves from his shirt, he'd spit on them, he was shaking them ; his eyes and his mouth are painted like those of a clown ; he brings the leaves and the flowers over my belly : \speech{Revive these dead flowers and leaves, you, child.} I get up, I press my fist on the bedstead, I stiffen, I wank, the client presses his ear to my little panting chest, the breath of my hardening cock bathes his face : sperm gushes out, spatters the dead flowers and leaves : \speech{Love, I thank you, I take them with me, refreshed by your dew.} He then takes my gluey cock from which my trembling hand withdraws, he sets his lips there, he drinks the drops of forced back sperm ; my other hand, sweating, leaves marks on the wood's varnish. On his lips, there is some blood and the end of my cock is reddened by it. At night, his brothers and his sisters huddled against him, Kment is riding a horse, by his natural father's side : his bare legs press the horse's fiery flanks ; the natural father's knee collides with Kment's. They gallop towards the sea : the dusty blackberries are soaking in the tumultuous waters. The mother, squatting, blows on the fire, washes the knives and the rompers inside the stream that crosses the beach : the fish caught in the rapids, jump on the carried away pebbles, sparkle through the thistle tufts. A three-mirror wardrobe sticks out of the sand, the hangers shaken by the evening wind bang against the mirrors. In the morning, on the sheets tucked in the golden sand, children play, tickle the sleeping parents. Kment, naked, catches a viper in the current, he strangles it in his fist, he lashes the water, he ties the viper around his forehead. The natural father takes his spurs from the bottom of the wardrobe, officer's badges are painted on his chest, on his shoulders and on his wrists. He carries Kment away on his horse, they enter the bright and putrefying city and the father slaughters and tramples under his horse's hooves the military who were Kment's lovers. Many are spared, they dig a trench around the brothel, they masturbate, they trample the sperm in the earth turned over ; the natural father pushes them forward and chains them up inside the circle, to the beds and to the brothel's petting seats ; the circle bursts into flame~: --- My natural father, save the sheets from the fire~! -The forks, the spoons, the knives tinkle inside the blaze ; the glasses, the vases, the chamberpots explode under the ash ; the sponges, the currycombs soar, lifted up, into the middle of the flames. On the beach, the mother lures, caresses the seagulls ; they fall on their back against the hearth stones ; she touches, she bleeds their belly, warm like those of the little whores. The natural father swills down the sail, he strikes it with laundry beaters, he hammers it like a skin ; the brothers roll naked, in the pink puddle at the bottom of the boat. Over the cliff, inside the groves of blackberries and pomegranates, monkeys devour the beasts forced back by the fire set to the city. +{\sloppy The forks, the spoons, the knives tinkle inside the blaze ; the glasses, the vases, the chamberpots explode under the ash ; the sponges, the currycombs soar, lifted up, into the middle of the flames. On the beach, the mother lures, caresses the seagulls ; they fall on their back against the hearth stones ; she touches, she bleeds their belly, warm like those of the little whores. The natural father swills down the sail, he strikes it with laundry beaters, he hammers it like a skin ; the brothers roll naked, in the pink puddle at the bottom of the boat. Over the cliff, inside the groves of blackberries and pomegranates, monkeys devour the beasts forced back by the fire set to the city. \par} Kment tears the heart of a seagull, the wings flutter against his cheeks. The mother snatches the bird, she plunges it in the boiling water. The natural father and the brothers, naked, shiver in the green storm : the storm puts out the flame of the hearth, riddles the sand, drinks the tears of original solitude from the cheeks of the natural father bending over the sail. Kment locks himself up in the mirror wardrobe, a seagull, thrown by the wind, hits the mirror and spatters it with its pink and violet droppings. A stone comes out of the seagull's boiled heart. The storm gives birth to a long and wet stone which reflects the lightnings, then the sun, and Kment, the brothers, the mother and the natural father roll towards the Ocean, bracing themselves against the stone. A procession passes on the road to the dunes, children carry the coffin of a boy who died of illness : no iron has torn him, he passed away, he fell asleep : inside him was the ailment and decay was seething, during the night, noiselessly ; the tears are pure that weep for him, his body is white, his throat intact, the children carry the open coffin under the foliage : the dust of the day falls on the forehead, on the lips of the dead child ; water caught in the leaves brushed past, wets the shroud covering him, from the chest to the feet. But the viper, on Kment's forehead, gets untied, runs down Kment's chest, down his cock, bores into the sand ; swift and shiny, cleaves the dry grass, bites the foot of a child bearer : blood swells the child's cheek pressed against the coffin's wood ; the child kneels down on the sand, the poison burns his leg, the coffin overturns, the corpse slides to the ground, the forehead tears on the armed stones, the coffin's edge falls on the dead child's knee and smashes it. The procession scatters, the children have fled, the snake writhes under the bitten child's armpit, the natural father steps forward, raises his spur, crushes the serpent's head. The natural father walks into the sea, Kment runs after him : the mother embraces a man from the procession, her hands shimmer, knead the man's hips, the man's knees move apart, come close together again and the mother bursts out laughing, howls in the stormy air --- the straw slides between their legs. On the cliff, the military, unbuttoned, are waiting, they call Kment, settled on the petting seats. The waters of the dream come running against Kment's knees. -At dawn, the purple birds dive in through the window, towards the bodies asleep in the rays of light, vibrate, settle on an arm, ona hand, brushing with their warm and fragrant plumage the cheeks, the ears, the hair that receive life from the sleepers of dawn, appeased, freed from the tumultuous dreams of the night. Sunbeams warm the linen, the cloths, the woods, the irons of the room, light up the golden globes of the abandoned bed. Kment opens an eye : a purple bird pricks the knot of the string which he uses as a belt for his shorts, Kment throws his hand forward, grabs the purple bird, squeezes it between his fingers and tears away its heart, he drinks the fresh blood, the beak quivers on his nostrils ; Kment throws the bird away and goes back to sleep. +At dawn, the purple birds dive in through the window, towards the bodies asleep in the rays of light, vibrate, settle on an arm, on a hand, brushing with their warm and fragrant plumage the cheeks, the ears, the hair that receive life from the sleepers of dawn, appeased, freed from the tumultuous dreams of the night. Sunbeams warm the linen, the cloths, the woods, the irons of the room, light up the golden globes of the abandoned bed. Kment opens an eye : a purple bird pricks the knot of the string which he uses as a belt for his shorts, Kment throws his hand forward, grabs the purple bird, squeezes it between his fingers and tears away its heart, he drinks the fresh blood, the beak quivers on his nostrils ; Kment throws the bird away and goes back to sleep. Later, a sudden and languid movement by Kment waking up, scatters the birds : they fly off towards the bed's bars, blowing its dust with the fluttering of their wings ; the droppings flow, seeds of dawn, glistening, along the bars. Love, lying on his back, legs spread apart, shields his cock with his hand : his nostrils, his lips, his hard and purplish-blue eyelids quiver. Kment gets up, steps over the bodies, opens the door and goes out, the whole front of his body seized by the sun. The noise of the door wakes up a beggar : he stirs, he grumbles, he pulls back around him his tatters dispersed over the swampy land by the wind of night and the tremors of the dream. @@ -1023,7 +1028,7 @@ Emilienne takes out chocolate and soda drinks from the cloth bag hanging from Se --- Drink and eat while we bathe. -\noindent The soldiers sit down, drive the butts of their rifles into the sand. Serge and Emilienne dash towards the sea, dive in the brutal water, swim far away, cross the gulf, their shoulders and their hips jostled by the motionless outboard motor boats, enter the high seas. The soldiers laugh, eat on the beach ; they fill with sand the empty bottles, they unlace their canvas shoes. Young people are go-kart racing on the cliff : often one of them flattens himself against the metal grating : his spotless shorts, the sports cars, the club's walls, the girls squatting at the edge of the racetrack, their throat and their breasts rolling, the gold of the cheeks, the hands, the knees and the ears ; the soldiers, mouth sweetened, feet sore, are having an erection ; crawling on their back towards the metal grating, they bite it ; the flags of the clubs and camps are flapping in the wind, the asphalt of the tracks and roads, the stone and marble of the terraces and perrons, the iron and wood of the balustrades, are glowing underneath the sea sky, reflection of ancient lands. +The soldiers sit down, drive the butts of their rifles into the sand. Serge and Emilienne dash towards the sea, dive in the brutal water, swim far away, cross the gulf, their shoulders and their hips jostled by the motionless outboard motor boats, enter the high seas. The soldiers laugh, eat on the beach ; they fill with sand the empty bottles, they unlace their canvas shoes. Young people are go-kart racing on the cliff : often one of them flattens himself against the metal grating : his spotless shorts, the sports cars, the club's walls, the girls squatting at the edge of the racetrack, their throat and their breasts rolling, the gold of the cheeks, the hands, the knees and the ears ; the soldiers, mouth sweetened, feet sore, are having an erection ; crawling on their back towards the metal grating, they bite it ; the flags of the clubs and camps are flapping in the wind, the asphalt of the tracks and roads, the stone and marble of the terraces and perrons, the iron and wood of the balustrades, are glowing underneath the sea sky, reflection of ancient lands. Serge and Emilienne appear out of the sea, run after each other on the crumbling sand, skirt round the rocks --- leaning against them --- and the puddles~: @@ -1039,7 +1044,7 @@ The soldiers move away, undress behind the rocks, run towards the sea, their bod She shivers, she sits down on the sand, lays her arms and her head on her knees. A boy stands flattened against the metal grating, an orangeade bottle sticks out of his white shorts' hip pocket, the shoulder juts out, bare, from a black wool sweater, he watches Emilienne, he nibbles his phalanxes pressed against the grating, he tightens his thighs, he rolls his head, he whines. A girl, leaning against the club wall, furtive, watches the boy, then Emilienne. The boy looks back, he grabs the girl's arm, he pushes her in a changing room, he knocks her down on the mingled shorts, and his bare feet scraping the lukewarm cement of the partition walls, he covers the girl, he makes her eat his fair hair ; his bone joints are on fire ; a stomach ache of love seethes inside him~: ---- I give it to you to taste, to drink, like a fashionable liquor. Here, here. But she's the one I love. Emilienne. All the girls dream of holding my cock between their lips. But she's the one I love, and I'Il kill Serge. I want to see the inside of his forehead. +--- I give it to you to taste, to drink, like a fashionable liquor. Here, here. But she's the one I love. Emilienne. All the girls dream of holding my cock between their lips. But she's the one I love, and I'll kill Serge. I want to see the inside of his forehead. Emilienne buries her legs, Serge fondles her breasts under the bathing suit, he bites the salty hair ; Emilienne moves back between Serge's thighs, she lays her elbows on the boy's knees ; against her back, Serge's cock hardens ; she moves her knee bones, dreamily. @@ -1055,7 +1060,7 @@ The sister says~: In the autumn, he lends to the orphanage the cinema equipment from the palace. Emilienne, accompanied by the sister, comes to collect it ; a soldier, with rifle at the slope, bends down with Emilienne to pick up the projector, the rifle's barrel strikes Emilienne's temple, so hard that she faints. The soldier lifts her up in his arms, he lays her on a bench ; while the sister talks in the vestibule to a slave, a former cook at the orphanage, the soldier tucks up Emilienne's dress, he covers her belly with the palm of his hand: The governor, parting from an officer on the perron, catches the soldier leaning already over her, he pushes him aside, he blows on Emilienne's face. The sister dips her handkerchief in the washbasin ; the governor strokes the young girl's icy forehead, he pushes his fingers between the sealed lips ; the sister lays the wet handkerchief on Emilienne's forehead. The governor carries Emilienne to the infirmary, the soldier sits down in the first room, on the bed of a wounded comrade ; the sister holds the wet handkerchief on the forehead. The governor lays Emilienne on the camp bed, the nurse rushes up along a pale sunbeam, she just left the arms of a soldier injured in the head : at night, she lies in the convalescents' beds. Emilienne wakes up. A scream. The nurse rushes to the latrines : a soldier, his bandaged penis sticking out of the pyjamas, leans his forehead against the wall : the bandage is bloody ; the nurse strokes the soldier's cold shoulders : in the iron basin, a filament of reddened sperm is spreading~: ---- Why didn't you wait, Rico ? I would have done it more delicately\ldots +--- Why didn't you wait, Rico~? I would have done it more delicately\ldots The soldier embraces the young nurse naked under her blouse~: @@ -1091,7 +1096,7 @@ These lie in their vomit at the bottom of the holds, their belly lifted up by ra On the deck, officers and tourists enjoy the journey and the command ; small children dressed in light colours run after each other in the hatchways, stop in front of the officers, dream of battles, wonder at the fragrance exhaled by those shiny napes, parasols fly open over the handrails, birds follow the wake of the ship. -At night, on the upper deck, a cinema screen is stretched between the yards and horses then trample their unseated riders ; children mixed with soldiers gone up secretly, sit on the hatches and watch, head between their knees : spindrifts spring up, spray the screen with a little noise of rain ; the children : girls and boys, huddle together, their hair mingling at'the mercy of the rolling and wind. The soldiers moved by the scent of velvet floating up from the children's bodies, tilt their head backward beneath the sky, offer their face to the pricking, the fondling by the night sky, to the dangerous downpours from the moon\ldots\ The children move up and make room for them, are astonished to see them without weapons, stroke their badges. The book is filled with noises of locks. The officers drive the soldiers away, they go down to the hold again, step over the sleepers' bodies, slide on the vomit and weariness lays them on the crates and on the sacks ; in the morning, they wake up, crushed, face crumpled, belly cut by the bodies of other soldiers, hand caught under the crates ; sailors drag soiled ropes over the chests, the shoulders, the thighs of the soldiers half-awake, heads stricken by the sailors' bare feet. +At night, on the upper deck, a cinema screen is stretched between the yards and horses then trample their unseated riders ; children mixed with soldiers gone up secretly, sit on the hatches and watch, head between their knees : spindrifts spring up, spray the screen with a little noise of rain ; the children : girls and boys, huddle together, their hair mingling at the mercy of the rolling and wind. The soldiers moved by the scent of velvet floating up from the children's bodies, tilt their head backward beneath the sky, offer their face to the pricking, the fondling by the night sky, to the dangerous downpours from the moon\ldots\ The children move up and make room for them, are astonished to see them without weapons, stroke their badges. The book is filled with noises of locks. The officers drive the soldiers away, they go down to the hold again, step over the sleepers' bodies, slide on the vomit and weariness lays them on the crates and on the sacks ; in the morning, they wake up, crushed, face crumpled, belly cut by the bodies of other soldiers, hand caught under the crates ; sailors drag soiled ropes over the chests, the shoulders, the thighs of the soldiers half-awake, heads stricken by the sailors' bare feet. Dawn freezes the heavy bodies, sea dew runs over the wood and the iron ; the rot, the vomit are fuming in the sun. The damp dust from the sun falls on the sleepers' lips, on the palm of their open hands, on their eyelashes. The liner enters Inamenas roadstead. All the soldiers are at the doors, in the hold, bending under the weight of sacks and weapons. The most ill among them are supported by the obscene, jolly, gum-chewing comrades ; the sailors push the soldiers back. Collision. The sailors open the doors, light hits the soldiers. The soldiers jump on the cargo pier --- general staff imports goods in secret. Old men are sitting on the crates and smoke a sour and stringy tobacco ; the soldiers, hardly out of the ship, abuse them : the old men shut their eyes, the smell of pepper and cinnamon puts one to sleep ; birds hop on the walls, cats run away, shreds of flesh between the teeth ; women in rags and tatters leave the warehouses at the arm of drunken sailors and dockers ; masses of abandoned children stir in the shadow of the doors, black streams and flies escape from those heaps. Higher up, along the seafront boulevard, sentries, rifle pointed at the sea, motionless, silent, watch the soldiers marching towards the station, wipe with their hand the dew on their forehead, sweat from the night's anguish --- and, seized by desire at the sight of the ragged and nagging women, flatten belly and thighs against the stone wall ; the soldiers march in six columns, towards the trains with iron plates scintillating through the smoke ; the warrant officers strike those who break rank to buy the drinks and the brioches. The officers swing round. The jeeps with vibrating antennas drive at full speed on the seafront boulevard, along walls covered by inscriptions and sinister initials. @@ -1102,17 +1107,17 @@ Trains leave towards the mountain, towards the little deserts of the South. In t In each post, a watchtower : a sentry goes round in a circle, throat throbbing under the light helmet's chin strap. The soldiers, inside the train, do not sleep ; tall yellow flowers with stems squeezed and burned in the stone piles, meadows of ashes around the forests, villages destroyed ; at the sight of the first dromedaries, the soldiers rise, burst out laughing, strike each other's round backs. Arrived at the camp, they march through the station with its fresh and gaudy tiles, they tread the path's red earth, look at the children, the dogs, the dark shops where fruits explode ; objects, subjects of the repression ; the soldiers marvel at seeing again alive children with a smooth throat, languid young people whose sexual organs or breasts bulge the rags and tatters. In the camp, for three days the seniors have been preparing the tent for the newcomers. -They drag themselves along towards the barrier, towards the barbed wire~: +{\sloppy They drag themselves along towards the barrier, towards the barbed wire~: \par} ---- Do you have cans of fish? +--- Do you have cans of fish~? --- ls the weather fine, in Ecbatane~? --- Ask to be in the first section, the hill climbers, we're free there. ---- Camerone, the captain ? A madman. If a dog happened to piss against a tent, he forces us all to unbutton ourselves and he selects a culprit for his night. We're his only family : his wife fucks with the division's armourer. So, the evenings when he longs for it too much, he comes to sit on our campbeds. +--- Camerone, the captain~? A madman. If a dog happened to piss against a tent, he forces us all to unbutton ourselves and he selects a culprit for his night. We're his only family : his wife fucks with the division's armourer. So, the evenings when he longs for it too much, he comes to sit on our campbeds. ---- Women ? Haven't you seen the hags in the village ? We wouldn't have enough soap to wash them. +--- Women~? Haven't you seen the hags in the village~? We wouldn't have enough soap to wash them. --- Yesterday, we bumped off ten rebs, not to mention the scores. @@ -1128,7 +1133,7 @@ pimp in this area. --- That's Pops, the radio operator, he's looking for bits of antennas. A learned one. He scares the officers. They give sugars to his little dog. ---- Membr\'{e}, the dog wanker, he also covers the asses. +--- Membr\'e, the dog wanker, he also covers the asses. --- Doudou Artistic, orphan, good-looking, the company's mascot : he draws with blood. @@ -1148,19 +1153,19 @@ A survivor crawls towards the torrent, a black open wound between his thighs and \secbreak -Amycl\'{e}e washes the corpses piled up in her shanty. The soapy water splashes the two windows' broken panes. At dawn, Amycl\'{e}e scours the rubbish heaps and the reeds by the river ; she pulls the little bodies from under the straw, the sharp cans and the disjointed frames ; the slaughtered, disemboweled, drowned rebels, from between the smudgy lianas and the rotting faggots where fish and rats bite one another. She loads the bodies on her cart, she lifts the bodies, she lays them on trestles, under her shanty's windows, she tears off their tatters, she washes them, she wrings them, she sews them up ; she washes the naked bodies with soap, she scatters fresh-blown flowers upon them and lets their sap penetrate the dead flesh. The blood, diluted with water, runs from the freshly killed bodies, wets the mud floor under the trestles : Amycl\'{e}e lifts up the penises, washes the testicles ; the lather pricks her eyes ; the kneecap rolls under the palm of her hand ; the soapy pubic locks become tangled in her fingers, the cake of soap slides on the trestle slats as far as under the corpse's buttocks. +Amycl\'ee washes the corpses piled up in her shanty. The soapy water splashes the two windows' broken panes. At dawn, Amycl\'ee scours the rubbish heaps and the reeds by the river ; she pulls the little bodies from under the straw, the sharp cans and the disjointed frames ; the slaughtered, disemboweled, drowned rebels, from between the smudgy lianas and the rotting faggots where fish and rats bite one another. She loads the bodies on her cart, she lifts the bodies, she lays them on trestles, under her shanty's windows, she tears off their tatters, she washes them, she wrings them, she sews them up ; she washes the naked bodies with soap, she scatters fresh-blown flowers upon them and lets their sap penetrate the dead flesh. The blood, diluted with water, runs from the freshly killed bodies, wets the mud floor under the trestles : Amycl\'ee lifts up the penises, washes the testicles ; the lather pricks her eyes ; the kneecap rolls under the palm of her hand ; the soapy pubic locks become tangled in her fingers, the cake of soap slides on the trestle slats as far as under the corpse's buttocks. -Amycl\'{e}e shaves the down on the young rebels' cheeks. In the afternoon, she dozes off, head leaning against the trestles, hair unwound on the hip of a young whore too violently deflowered and thrown to the rubbish pile with the morning's shit. At nightfall, she once more loads the combed, dressed, closed up corpses, she pushes the cart to the bank of the river, she digs a grave ; flies, birds shroud the bodies sliding on the tilted pole, the wounds reopen, the tatters become red ; the slime crumbles into the fresh grave ; Amycl\'{e}e cuts the dry reeds and throws them at the bottom over the slime, then, she pulls the bodies, one by one, she lifts them in her arms and takes them down inside the pit ; the corpse's head rolls on her arm ; she lays the corpse on the reed litter, she wipes on the pale brow a bird dropping, she kisses the eyelids and the stones of the eyes. The purple birds peck the trampled earth. +Amycl\'ee shaves the down on the young rebels' cheeks. In the afternoon, she dozes off, head leaning against the trestles, hair unwound on the hip of a young whore too violently deflowered and thrown to the rubbish pile with the morning's shit. At nightfall, she once more loads the combed, dressed, closed up corpses, she pushes the cart to the bank of the river, she digs a grave ; flies, birds shroud the bodies sliding on the tilted pole, the wounds reopen, the tatters become red ; the slime crumbles into the fresh grave ; Amycl\'ee cuts the dry reeds and throws them at the bottom over the slime, then, she pulls the bodies, one by one, she lifts them in her arms and takes them down inside the pit ; the corpse's head rolls on her arm ; she lays the corpse on the reed litter, she wipes on the pale brow a bird dropping, she kisses the eyelids and the stones of the eyes. The purple birds peck the trampled earth. -On the way back, Amycl\'{e}e washes the cart in the river ; the fish graze the pole, play among the axles and the bars of the wheels. Amycl\'{e}e ties the cart to the shanty's latch. At night, lying among the naked corpses, the drop by drop of the blood dripping from the trestles, sends her to sleep. Kment, his hand leaning on the lifted pole, watches Amycl\'{e}e's breasts ; they breathe in the moonlight and the hair is bathed in pink blood. Kment taps the window pane with his finger. Amycl\'{e}e opens her eyes~: +On the way back, Amycl\'ee washes the cart in the river ; the fish graze the pole, play among the axles and the bars of the wheels. Amycl\'ee ties the cart to the shanty's latch. At night, lying among the naked corpses, the drop by drop of the blood dripping from the trestles, sends her to sleep. Kment, his hand leaning on the lifted pole, watches Amycl\'ee's breasts ; they breathe in the moonlight and the hair is bathed in pink blood. Kment taps the window pane with his finger. Amycl\'ee opens her eyes~: --- I want to drink milk. -He enters, he rushes in Amycl\'{e}e's arms, his mouth is swelled with wine and beer, he vomits them over Amycl\'{e}e's shoulder and back, she makes him lie on the camp bed, she holds a pitcher of milk, she pours it in his bowl. Kment rises on one elbow, he puts his lips on the edge of the bowl, he drinks : a clot of blood pierces the surface and sticks to his lips ; Kment spits, throws the bowl against the wall, spits, grips his throat~: +He enters, he rushes in Amycl\'ee's arms, his mouth is swelled with wine and beer, he vomits them over Amycl\'ee's shoulder and back, she makes him lie on the camp bed, she holds a pitcher of milk, she pours it in his bowl. Kment rises on one elbow, he puts his lips on the edge of the bowl, he drinks : a clot of blood pierces the surface and sticks to his lips ; Kment spits, throws the bowl against the wall, spits, grips his throat~: --- Blood, blood, blood everywhere. Your hair comes out of blood. You change blood into milk. You drink the martyrs' blood. -Milk streams on the wall and in the camp bed's articulations. The blood clot is hanging from Kment's chin, it vibrates when the boy shouts. Amycl\'{e}e walks around the trestles : turds are coming out from between a young slaughtered rebel's buttocks ; a purple bird is pecking at them. Amycl\'{e}e strokes the shaven head, the mark of the noose on the stiffened throat. Kment rolls over the mud floor, he crawls, he catches Amycl\'{e}e's leg, his chest is bathing in the blood, his teeth bite the trestles' feet~: +Milk streams on the wall and in the camp bed's articulations. The blood clot is hanging from Kment's chin, it vibrates when the boy shouts. Amycl\'ee walks around the trestles : turds are coming out from between a young slaughtered rebel's buttocks ; a purple bird is pecking at them. Amycl\'ee strokes the shaven head, the mark of the noose on the stiffened throat. Kment rolls over the mud floor, he crawls, he catches Amycl\'ee's leg, his chest is bathing in the blood, his teeth bite the trestles' feet~: --- Give me your milk. Give. @@ -1168,11 +1173,11 @@ Milk streams on the wall and in the camp bed's articulations. The blood clot is --- I'm your little boy. Let me stroke your belly and your breasts, the milk will come up again, for my lips. -All night he spits, he holds Amycl\'{e}e against the walls, he knocks her down over the corpses, he bites her, he claws her cunt and her breasts ; he presses her waist, he licks her neck and throat, pushes on her belly with his fist. She, the blood clot stuck between her lips, her bare back crushing the softened cock of a dead rebel, lets the boy hollow her out, take her breath away with his mouth, drown her in his spittle. Only at dawn does he fall asleep on her, birds fly into the illuminated shanty, the broken panes scintillate, the sharp wind freezes her shoulders and the tears in her eyes. At the tip of her breast shines a drop of milk. Then, waking up the boy with a blow of her knee, she gives herself up : Kment, in a half-sleep opens, pushes forward his lips and his tongue licks the drop of milk on the erect nipple ; then, he falls asleep again but gives little strokes with his tongue on the nipple, every time he groans or becomes immersed again in the dream. +All night he spits, he holds Amycl\'ee against the walls, he knocks her down over the corpses, he bites her, he claws her cunt and her breasts ; he presses her waist, he licks her neck and throat, pushes on her belly with his fist. She, the blood clot stuck between her lips, her bare back crushing the softened cock of a dead rebel, lets the boy hollow her out, take her breath away with his mouth, drown her in his spittle. Only at dawn does he fall asleep on her, birds fly into the illuminated shanty, the broken panes scintillate, the sharp wind freezes her shoulders and the tears in her eyes. At the tip of her breast shines a drop of milk. Then, waking up the boy with a blow of her knee, she gives herself up : Kment, in a half-sleep opens, pushes forward his lips and his tongue licks the drop of milk on the erect nipple ; then, he falls asleep again but gives little strokes with his tongue on the nipple, every time he groans or becomes immersed again in the dream. -Amycl\'{e}e lies in the bed of the dying and helps them to die. She also hides the hunted rebels, they hold their breath, crushed under the heap of dead bodies ; the soldiers respect Amycl\'{e}e, by order of the governor, they bring her sacks of flour and sugar. Some evenings, sugar sparkles on the lips of all the lower district's children and their belly is swollen by flour eaten raw, head inside the sack. Then, Amycl\'{e}e, secluded in her shanty, her trestles emptied and washed, waits for Djafar. Rebel, commander of the river area, pimp of thirty women, Djafar, on days of flour and sugar, visits Amycl\'{e}e. He carries the sacks to the mountain where his strike commandos camp. Inside the shanty, he lifts, he chooses the sacks, his pistol, his dagger, beat on his hips. Amycl\'{e}e holds him back by the wrist, by the waist, Djafar pushes her away : he holds his rifle in his hand, he looks back, the mica eyeshade of his cap darkens his gaze, his hair comes out in locks from under the crammed cap ; the battledress is held tight at the waist and falls in pleats on the buttocks, on the hips, on the thighs ; Djafar grips in his floured fist the top of Amycl\'{e}e's blouse, he shakes Amycl\'{e}e, plunges again his free arm in the flour, makes it run between his fingers. Under the battledress, crumpled, its pockets tucked up, the sweater and the sheepskin stolen from the occupation army, fatten his arms, his shoulders and his torso and eat up his neck\ldots +Amycl\'ee lies in the bed of the dying and helps them to die. She also hides the hunted rebels, they hold their breath, crushed under the heap of dead bodies ; the soldiers respect Amycl\'ee, by order of the governor, they bring her sacks of flour and sugar. Some evenings, sugar sparkles on the lips of all the lower district's children and their belly is swollen by flour eaten raw, head inside the sack. Then, Amycl\'ee, secluded in her shanty, her trestles emptied and washed, waits for Djafar. Rebel, commander of the river area, pimp of thirty women, Djafar, on days of flour and sugar, visits Amycl\'ee. He carries the sacks to the mountain where his strike commandos camp. Inside the shanty, he lifts, he chooses the sacks, his pistol, his dagger, beat on his hips. Amycl\'ee holds him back by the wrist, by the waist, Djafar pushes her away : he holds his rifle in his hand, he looks back, the mica eyeshade of his cap darkens his gaze, his hair comes out in locks from under the crammed cap ; the battledress is held tight at the waist and falls in pleats on the buttocks, on the hips, on the thighs ; Djafar grips in his floured fist the top of Amycl\'ee's blouse, he shakes Amycl\'ee, plunges again his free arm in the flour, makes it run between his fingers. Under the battledress, crumpled, its pockets tucked up, the sweater and the sheepskin stolen from the occupation army, fatten his arms, his shoulders and his torso and eat up his neck\ldots -Amycl\'{e}e strokes his back, he gives a start, he tilts his head backwards, presses his mouth smeared with sugar and flour on Amycl\'{e}e's cheek and hair ; he hugs the young woman against his chest hardened by the grenades and bullets crammed in the pockets, he bites her mouth, her teeth ; his jaguar's head rolls, crushes Amycl\'{e}e's shoulder, his paws knead the mass of flesh, hair and fabric wet by sweat on the front of Amycl\'{e}e's body. Rays of light stripe Djafar's back and legs ; Djafar yells, he slobbers over Amycl\'{e}e's face, her shoulders, the top of her blouse ; every time she unclenches her lips or looks up, moves her cheeks, tilts her head backwards, at once filaments of slaver develop and scintillate and Djafar licks them and blows on them. The way a beast covers its prey with foam. Djafar squeezes her loins between his thighs hardened by forced marches ; he knocks her down on the camp bed spattered with milk, the canvas makes cracking sounds under their bodies, the fastenings are stretched tight, the articulations of wood and aluminium, bow. The frame at the head of the bed comes out of joint under their fiery heads ; Amycl\'{e}e, strangled, holds Djafar's floured head, her nails claw the cap of camouflage cloth, Amycl\'{e}e raises, pushes back Djafar's head ; he, with one hand unbuttons himself and with the other he tears, her belly lifted up, Amycl\'{e}e's blouse from one hip to another, with his sugared spittle he blinds Amycl\'{e}e's eyes ; he shakes his head, he rids it of Amycl\'{e}e's hands like a horse of its girth. The pieces of cardboard flap on the broken panes. The night wind raises the dust around the shanty ; the searchlights illuminate the brothel windows, the bodies intermingled in the darkness of the outside latrines, over the soiled planks, the pitchers, the washbasins, the mirrors, the steel towel rails, the spattered bars, the folds in the untidy sheets where a transparent sperm is shaking~: +Amycl\'ee strokes his back, he gives a start, he tilts his head backwards, presses his mouth smeared with sugar and flour on Amycl\'ee's cheek and hair ; he hugs the young woman against his chest hardened by the grenades and bullets crammed in the pockets, he bites her mouth, her teeth ; his jaguar's head rolls, crushes Amycl\'ee's shoulder, his paws knead the mass of flesh, hair and fabric wet by sweat on the front of Amycl\'ee's body. Rays of light stripe Djafar's back and legs ; Djafar yells, he slobbers over Amycl\'ee's face, her shoulders, the top of her blouse ; every time she unclenches her lips or looks up, moves her cheeks, tilts her head backwards, at once filaments of slaver develop and scintillate and Djafar licks them and blows on them. The way a beast covers its prey with foam. Djafar squeezes her loins between his thighs hardened by forced marches ; he knocks her down on the camp bed spattered with milk, the canvas makes cracking sounds under their bodies, the fastenings are stretched tight, the articulations of wood and aluminum, bow. The frame at the head of the bed comes out of joint under their fiery heads ; Amycl\'ee, strangled, holds Djafar's floured head, her nails claw the cap of camouflage cloth, Amycl\'ee raises, pushes back Djafar's head ; he, with one hand unbuttons himself and with the other he tears, her belly lifted up, Amycl\'ee's blouse from one hip to another, with his sugared spittle he blinds Amycl\'ee's eyes ; he shakes his head, he rids it of Amycl\'ee's hands like a horse of its girth. The pieces of cardboard flap on the broken panes. The night wind raises the dust around the shanty ; the searchlights illuminate the brothel windows, the bodies intermingled in the darkness of the outside latrines, over the soiled planks, the pitchers, the washbasins, the mirrors, the steel towel rails, the spattered bars, the folds in the untidy sheets where a transparent sperm is shaking~: --- He who sees his blood strongly flowing, knows his intelligence ; harshness lifts up, swells his chest\ldots @@ -1180,39 +1185,39 @@ Amycl\'{e}e strokes his back, he gives a start, he tilts his head backwards, pre --- I laugh while fleeing a village we set on fire, cattle and families intermingled in blood, under the moon. The smell of ash and grilled blood gives me a hard-on. Often, I walk back to the slaughter, I touch the muscle, the still throbbing vein of some naked child huddled up beside the heap of bodies. Then, he opens an eye, he stares at me and I strike that eye with my rifle's butt. I call the jackals halted panting behind the smoking ruins, I lift up the child and I throw him in the smoke : the fangs knock against one another in the smoke, blood runs out of the sheet of smoke, limbs shoot out all bloody, I put my foot on them, the jackal bites my shoe, it tears the lace ; my comrades squatting in the vines are devouring the grapes, juice runs down their throat, then mixes with their slaver on the battledress swelled by the cock hardened in the slaughter and kept so by the jackals' uproar and my panting ; the jackals pull bodies knocked down on the slope of roofs and sheds made of thatch and bamboo, the bodies fall, feet bitten by the beasts. -I sit on the heaped up corpses, blood wets my buttocks, a throat quivers under my cock, two breasts breathe under my thighs and I tilt my head backwards, and my eyes become lost in the starlit sky ; the breathing, under me, weakens, my hard-on points towards the stars, my chest moves up again towards my throat, the jackals' paws claw the flagstones. At the bottom of the valley, the jeeps' and half- track vehicles' headlights dazzle the kingfishers mating on the reeds and on the pink shingles, the monkeys mating inside the ruins of the thermal power station, or playing on the motionless driving belts and gear wheels. At the noise of engines, breaths, moanings have started coming out of the pile of mingled bodies but, under me, the breathing has ceased and I lean back hands joined under the nape and I spread my thighs and I let my cock fall back on my belly and lift my belt. Headlights pierce the smoke, I spring up, I strike the comrades dozing in the vines, throat strangled by the grapes, and we run till morning towards the sea, to purify the harshness of our bodies and of our minds. +I sit on the heaped up corpses, blood wets my buttocks, a throat quivers under my cock, two breasts breathe under my thighs and I tilt my head backwards, and my eyes become lost in the starlit sky ; the breathing, under me, weakens, my hard-on points towards the stars, my chest moves up again towards my throat, the jackals' paws claw the flagstones. At the bottom of the valley, the jeeps' and half-track vehicles' headlights dazzle the kingfishers mating on the reeds and on the pink shingles, the monkeys mating inside the ruins of the thermal power station, or playing on the motionless driving belts and gear wheels. At the noise of engines, breaths, moanings have started coming out of the pile of mingled bodies but, under me, the breathing has ceased and I lean back hands joined under the nape and I spread my thighs and I let my cock fall back on my belly and lift my belt. Headlights pierce the smoke, I spring up, I strike the comrades dozing in the vines, throat strangled by the grapes, and we run till morning towards the sea, to purify the harshness of our bodies and of our minds. In slaughter and in fire, in laughter and relaxation while questioning, we bend forward, we vibrate, we weather like stones. And you love me, you want to change my sharp-pointed cock into a child's hand, change my glaring jaw into a casket for your tears ; I, stone crushing thee my ploughed earth, fire burns all round and do not burn me, sweat hits us, and here we are wandering in the night sky and suddenly twisted and whirling towards the rising sun, towards the zone of silence where all the clashes of the battle assemble and sink into the ground. -Djafar drags Amycl\'{e}e to the brothel, he throws her against the walls of the common hall."The whores, the boy servants, horsehair mixed with their locks, make a circle around her, they caress her with their soiled hands, they lime her belly, her arms, her face ; their hands are still shaking from having wanked and drunk all day~: +Djafar drags Amycl\'ee to the brothel, he throws her against the walls of the common hall."The whores, the boy servants, horsehair mixed with their locks, make a circle around her, they caress her with their soiled hands, they lime her belly, her arms, her face ; their hands are still shaking from having wanked and drunk all day~: ---- Thus prepared, sprinkled, blessed by our hands, little sister Amycl\'{e}e, you may embrace those touched by Djafar, without regret. +--- Thus prepared, sprinkled, blessed by our hands, little sister Amycl\'ee, you may embrace those touched by Djafar, without regret. -And Djafar delivers Amycl\'{e}e to his comrades. At dawn, he takes her from their arms, their legs, he wipes Amycl\'{e}e's hair with the flat of his hand, his back leans against the wall, he unbuttons himself, he shakes forward his unbuttoned fly. He grows rigid against the wall under its latticed window. Whores, clients, madam, sleepers, give a start when a beam touches their bare feet, their nostrils soiled with snot, their throat where the wine is drying, their belly where the sperm sticks and flattens the down, their lips where the sharp wind make their sexual organs' locks shiver. Amycl\'{e}e buries her hand between the thighs of Djafar stiffened and hissing, a soda straw between his teeth, she catches the cock, presses it to her lips, she wanks him : the cock, ringed, heats up, swells ; Amycl\'{e}e presses it against her half- opened lips and saliva sparkles between her teeth : her upper lip covers the top of the seething cock like the cap of a poisoned cup and her eyes shine, mist over, shine. +And Djafar delivers Amycl\'ee to his comrades. At dawn, he takes her from their arms, their legs, he wipes Amycl\'ee's hair with the flat of his hand, his back leans against the wall, he unbuttons himself, he shakes forward his unbuttoned fly. He grows rigid against the wall under its latticed window. Whores, clients, madam, sleepers, give a start when a beam touches their bare feet, their nostrils soiled with snot, their throat where the wine is drying, their belly where the sperm sticks and flattens the down, their lips where the sharp wind make their sexual organs' locks shiver. Amycl\'ee buries her hand between the thighs of Djafar stiffened and hissing, a soda straw between his teeth, she catches the cock, presses it to her lips, she wanks him : the cock, ringed, heats up, swells ; Amycl\'ee presses it against her half-opened lips and saliva sparkles between her teeth : her upper lip covers the top of the seething cock like the cap of a poisoned cup and her eyes shine, mist over, shine. \secbreak -\ldots\ \ldots\ For a month women have been treading the ravaged plain where Spring rises up a little ; the soldiers, very young ones, strike them, whip them ; one evening, Amycl\'{e}e, lies down on the earth, the captive women carry her to a tumbledown hut along which a wisteria is blooming ; on the ashes, the child is born ; a gust of wind raises the ash, like a man's stride. The soldiers drink, sing, throw blackened stones and pieces of metal on the women. A soldier reaps the wisteria with his butt, he tramples it, he pushes the women aside, he grabs the gluey and frozen baby in his arms, he steps outside, he runs towards the soldiers sitting around the fire, he throws the baby over his head, he catches him again, he sprinkles him with wine, with earth, he holds him by the feet in his gloved fists. Amycl\'{e}e doesn't move, the women guard the door of the broken down hut. A captive woman, whom the soldiers are raping, screams, her head bangs against their hardened shoes rounded off by frost, they crush her toes in the spongy earth : the black spider woven on the soldiers' armbands has faded with the sweat of blows and embraces, with the rain, with the splashed soup. Women grown ugly, ground by weariness and too great a misery ; only, the still pure curve of a cheek, a spark in the glance, the tender joint of a finger, could move the young soldiers, but they do not notice them, they harass those unimportant bodies, they beat them by habit, they crush them by boredom. The soldier throws the baby on the belly of Amycl\'{e}e knocked down on the rails. At nightfall, the same soldier picks up the baby still alive, he lifts him up by the arm, he runs, he holds a bottle of spirits in another fist ; the baby gets caught in a heap of barbed wire, the soldier pulls, the barbed wire rises ; the soldier ties the baby to the barbed wire, he drags the wire to the gates of Gas. Eagles shoot out from an enemy bomber, gunned down, stranded on the top of the fir trees, by the lake : fifteen year-old soldiers are pushing prisoners towards that frozen lake, they strike them with oars and frames of pedal boats. The prisoners --- many are naked --- jump on the ice, the squalls knock them down against the bloody blocks of ice ; a soldier catches a little girl who escaped and huddled inside the pedal boat shed, he takes her by the waist and, dancing, he pushes her towards the shore, he forces her to enter the frozen water up to the throat, he pushes one moment her head under water, then, bringing two sharp ice blocks close together, he grips the little girl's neck, until death. +\ldots\ \ldots\ For a month women have been treading the ravaged plain where Spring rises up a little ; the soldiers, very young ones, strike them, whip them ; one evening, Amycl\'ee, lies down on the earth, the captive women carry her to a tumbledown hut along which a wisteria is blooming ; on the ashes, the child is born ; a gust of wind raises the ash, like a man's stride. The soldiers drink, sing, throw blackened stones and pieces of metal on the women. A soldier reaps the wisteria with his butt, he tramples it, he pushes the women aside, he grabs the gluey and frozen baby in his arms, he steps outside, he runs towards the soldiers sitting around the fire, he throws the baby over his head, he catches him again, he sprinkles him with wine, with earth, he holds him by the feet in his gloved fists. Amycl\'ee doesn't move, the women guard the door of the broken down hut. A captive woman, whom the soldiers are raping, screams, her head bangs against their hardened shoes rounded off by frost, they crush her toes in the spongy earth : the black spider woven on the soldiers' armbands has faded with the sweat of blows and embraces, with the rain, with the splashed soup. Women grown ugly, ground by weariness and too great a misery ; only, the still pure curve of a cheek, a spark in the glance, the tender joint of a finger, could move the young soldiers, but they do not notice them, they harass those unimportant bodies, they beat them by habit, they crush them by boredom. The soldier throws the baby on the belly of Amycl\'ee knocked down on the rails. At nightfall, the same soldier picks up the baby still alive, he lifts him up by the arm, he runs, he holds a bottle of spirits in another fist ; the baby gets caught in a heap of barbed wire, the soldier pulls, the barbed wire rises ; the soldier ties the baby to the barbed wire, he drags the wire to the gates of Gas. Eagles shoot out from an enemy bomber, gunned down, stranded on the top of the fir trees, by the lake : fifteen year-old soldiers are pushing prisoners towards that frozen lake, they strike them with oars and frames of pedal boats. The prisoners --- many are naked --- jump on the ice, the squalls knock them down against the bloody blocks of ice ; a soldier catches a little girl who escaped and huddled inside the pedal boat shed, he takes her by the waist and, dancing, he pushes her towards the shore, he forces her to enter the frozen water up to the throat, he pushes one moment her head under water, then, bringing two sharp ice blocks close together, he grips the little girl's neck, until death. -At the Gas, the soldier unties the baby from the barbed wire, he throws him over the living and the dead, standing, lying, intermingled and their shit released in fright and anger. The iron gate is shut again, the soldiers lean on it, their elbows, their chests, their knees ; the gate is shaking ; the soldiers hold their breath : a murmur of girls' dormitory in the morning, rises from the iron. A soldier opens the gate, purulent corpses of children slide like dead fish at the soldier's feet, he tramples those shaven heads, those hollow cheeks, those skinny shoulders marked by the whip, those legs so frail that one blow of the fist would smash them, those eyes in which the blows have awoken the blood in the iris, those battered brows which some natural mothers, once beautiful and happy, have kissed in the evening to chase away the monsters of the dream, those withered lips that alighted upon their cheeks, at morning, red, warm with sleep and sensing already the jam and the tea ; the soldier shakes his boots ; the eagles soar from watch- tower to watch-tower. In slow motion, a train runs towards Amycl\'{e}e asleep on the wet rails, squashes the rotting corpses, the cradles, the pushchairs, the children's eyeshades piled up on the railway and covered with a powdery and sparkling snow ; the fifteen year-old soldiers climb up the cattle trucks filled with children alive and dead, tear away the small chains and the medals and the gold teeth with the pliers in the mouth of the living, agony's pink blood gushes out, bathes the stolen gold and the pliers that are searching for it. +At the Gas, the soldier unties the baby from the barbed wire, he throws him over the living and the dead, standing, lying, intermingled and their shit released in fright and anger. The iron gate is shut again, the soldiers lean on it, their elbows, their chests, their knees ; the gate is shaking ; the soldiers hold their breath : a murmur of girls' dormitory in the morning, rises from the iron. A soldier opens the gate, purulent corpses of children slide like dead fish at the soldier's feet, he tramples those shaven heads, those hollow cheeks, those skinny shoulders marked by the whip, those legs so frail that one blow of the fist would smash them, those eyes in which the blows have awoken the blood in the iris, those battered brows which some natural mothers, once beautiful and happy, have kissed in the evening to chase away the monsters of the dream, those withered lips that alighted upon their cheeks, at morning, red, warm with sleep and sensing already the jam and the tea ; the soldier shakes his boots ; the eagles soar from watch-tower to watch-tower. In slow motion, a train runs towards Amycl\'ee asleep on the wet rails, squashes the rotting corpses, the cradles, the pushchairs, the children's eyeshades piled up on the railway and covered with a powdery and sparkling snow ; the fifteen year-old soldiers climb up the cattle trucks filled with children alive and dead, tear away the small chains and the medals and the gold teeth with the pliers in the mouth of the living, agony's pink blood gushes out, bathes the stolen gold and the pliers that are searching for it. -In Spring, the river where the wood glides down, water flows on the rocks, in the grass, under the tree roots, between the ruins, rolling the wilted flowers, the pieces of bark, the remains of toys, the jingling fragments of metal. Freshness rises from the waters. Amycl\'{e}e and the women are washing the children in the liberated lake ; the fifteen year-old soldiers forgiven, disarmed, wearing khaki vests, are fishing, chasing the frogs along the shore. Amycl\'{e}e and the women lay the babies on the straw litter inside the pedal boat shed ; they beat, they wring the fifteen year-old soldiers' jackets and shirts ; the armbands, faded, are burning under the pots of soup. The fifteen year-old soldiers, their jacket soiled with slime, tear with hoarse laughs the frogs' legs and throw them in the boiling water. At night, they rise silently from the litter, uncrease their straw-strewn jackets, cover their shoulders with the wet jackets, go out in the bright night ; they run like a herd, their heels hitting the rock covered with pine needles ; in the forest, they stroke the enemy bomber, they spit on the double cross mark painted on the fuselage and on the wings, they take out from their jacket a portrait of the Master of War, their suicided master, photo torn off from the pedal boat shed's wall, they hang it to the trunk of a fir tree, they salute him, hand raised, they shout, they trample the ground with their bare feet ; they seize the youngest among them, they undress him, they tie his feet with a pedal boat mooring rope, and they suspend him, upside down, to the lowest branch of the tree ; they press him, they whip him with their belts unfastened from around the jacket, they wank over his shaken back, on his unfurled hair crowned by the mark of the helmet ; then, having untied him, they drag him to a stream in the deep forest, the stream erodes the trunks, it flows towards the sea --- the diverted lake ; they plunge the boy's head in the tumultuous current and they flee, silent, panting, their brow whipped by the reborn leaves and the random glimmers of the moon and of the bombers. +In Spring, the river where the wood glides down, water flows on the rocks, in the grass, under the tree roots, between the ruins, rolling the wilted flowers, the pieces of bark, the remains of toys, the jingling fragments of metal. Freshness rises from the waters. Amycl\'ee and the women are washing the children in the liberated lake ; the fifteen year-old soldiers forgiven, disarmed, wearing khaki vests, are fishing, chasing the frogs along the shore. Amycl\'ee and the women lay the babies on the straw litter inside the pedal boat shed ; they beat, they wring the fifteen year-old soldiers' jackets and shirts ; the armbands, faded, are burning under the pots of soup. The fifteen year-old soldiers, their jacket soiled with slime, tear with hoarse laughs the frogs' legs and throw them in the boiling water. At night, they rise silently from the litter, uncrease their straw-strewn jackets, cover their shoulders with the wet jackets, go out in the bright night ; they run like a herd, their heels hitting the rock covered with pine needles ; in the forest, they stroke the enemy bomber, they spit on the double cross mark painted on the fuselage and on the wings, they take out from their jacket a portrait of the Master of War, their suicided master, photo torn off from the pedal boat shed's wall, they hang it to the trunk of a fir tree, they salute him, hand raised, they shout, they trample the ground with their bare feet ; they seize the youngest among them, they undress him, they tie his feet with a pedal boat mooring rope, and they suspend him, upside down, to the lowest branch of the tree ; they press him, they whip him with their belts unfastened from around the jacket, they wank over his shaken back, on his unfurled hair crowned by the mark of the helmet ; then, having untied him, they drag him to a stream in the deep forest, the stream erodes the trunks, it flows towards the sea --- the diverted lake ; they plunge the boy's head in the tumultuous current and they flee, silent, panting, their brow whipped by the reborn leaves and the random glimmers of the moon and of the bombers. -Amycl\'{e}e wakes up, the children, the babies huddled against her hips, fast asleep in the machine-gunned dawn~: +Amycl\'ee wakes up, the children, the babies huddled against her hips, fast asleep in the machine-gunned dawn~: --- O my mother, princess of Ecbatane, attentive to your slaves' blood ; your head, heavy opium poppy. From now on, I cannot live outside the cruel worlds. The sea is grey, the children, the adolescents, wearing loose-fitting sailor uniforms, play on the deck, fall asleep huddled on the piles of ropes ; in their sleep, their hands, their shoulders shiver, they groan like little gundogs dreaming of chases and the kill ; on their cheeks, the whip has left white marks ; at the corner of the eyes, wounds that the sun burns ; the spray, the salt falling back on their sleeping bodies, make them quiver. The sailors step over the bodies. They've taken the children in their cabins, they sew up their worn clothes. At ports, they disembark with these children and come back, arms full of toys, barley sugar, shoes, smocks and straw hats. -On deck, everywhere, the children follow them but quiver under the caresses. Amycl\'{e}e, leaning over the rails, smokes long cigarettes offered by the young captain of the ship. He doesn't dare caress the scars on Amycl\'{e}e's face and arms ; he loves her for a deep scar she bears on the top of the throat, at the border of the neck, that decapitates her ; at night, he bends over her while she's asleep, he kisses the scar, under the sheet. A seagull dozing on the outside edge of the porthole, flies away : the wing hits the pane ; Amycl\'{e}e moves ; the young captain withdraws. In the morning, gone down to the capital of the hundred inlaid cupolas, he brushes with his hand the studded gate of the imperial prison, she, Amycl\'{e}e, throwing back her hair and the torn tufts soaring around her. +On deck, everywhere, the children follow them but quiver under the caresses. Amycl\'ee, leaning over the rails, smokes long cigarettes offered by the young captain of the ship. He doesn't dare caress the scars on Amycl\'ee's face and arms ; he loves her for a deep scar she bears on the top of the throat, at the border of the neck, that decapitates her ; at night, he bends over her while she's asleep, he kisses the scar, under the sheet. A seagull dozing on the outside edge of the porthole, flies away : the wing hits the pane ; Amycl\'ee moves ; the young captain withdraws. In the morning, gone down to the capital of the hundred inlaid cupolas, he brushes with his hand the studded gate of the imperial prison, she, Amycl\'ee, throwing back her hair and the torn tufts soaring around her. --- My mother, revolutionary, was here locked up and beheaded the night of her labour, and I was screaming, alone, abandoned in the prison, on her deserted trestle bed. -Amycl\'{e}e tilts her head back, offers her taut bosom, the young captain plunges his fair and curly hair, his lips cover the scar\ldots +Amycl\'ee tilts her head back, offers her taut bosom, the young captain plunges his fair and curly hair, his lips cover the scar\ldots \secbreak -Amycl\'{e}e's lips press the cock of a languid Djafar, his battledress rubbing the wall's saltpetre. All around, clients and whores rise, get dressed again ; with their head down, the clients plunge into dawn, stumble over the crates, wipe their soiled hands to the tyres of the market lorries ; behind the banging doors of the small covered market, rats stir the heaps of chopped heads of pigs and lambs, lick the fresh blood, pull at the eyes, dig under the teeth, tear the ears off ; sea birds imprisoned at the departure of stevedores and butchers, bang into the glass roofs, cry, their droppings splash the pools of blood ; the breath from their wings shakes the hooks in the cubicles and the nylon curtains, bloody and pierced by the apprentices' knives. Sleepy children, behind the brothel's bar, fire at each other with air pistols they stole at the slaughterhouse : they press them on the forehead of clients asleep on the tiled floor. Then, Djafar seizes a child by the waist, he grabs the pistol from his fist, he presses the barrel on Amycl\'{e}e's forehead and he kills her : Amycl\'{e}e gives a start, her lips part from Djafar's softened cock, she falls backwards, her head bangs against the tiles and the foot of the petting seat ; Djafar, his cock shaking on the battledress, tramples Amycl\'{e}e's head. The children crowding around the madame's hips, lick their pistols. Djafar, putting his cock back in his battledress and buttoning himself, walks towards the bar, he takes a bottle from the hands of the dishwasher --- inside the dishwashing basin, sperm filaments swirl in the soapy water --- he drinks straight from the bottle, he throws it against the dishwasher's bare torso and he escapes into the street, his felt sandals striking the drenched asphalt. +Amycl\'ee's lips press the cock of a languid Djafar, his battledress rubbing the wall's saltpetre. All around, clients and whores rise, get dressed again ; with their head down, the clients plunge into dawn, stumble over the crates, wipe their soiled hands to the tyres of the market lorries ; behind the banging doors of the small covered market, rats stir the heaps of chopped heads of pigs and lambs, lick the fresh blood, pull at the eyes, dig under the teeth, tear the ears off ; sea birds imprisoned at the departure of stevedores and butchers, bang into the glass roofs, cry, their droppings splash the pools of blood ; the breath from their wings shakes the hooks in the cubicles and the nylon curtains, bloody and pierced by the apprentices' knives. Sleepy children, behind the brothel's bar, fire at each other with air pistols they stole at the slaughterhouse : they press them on the forehead of clients asleep on the tiled floor. Then, Djafar seizes a child by the waist, he grabs the pistol from his fist, he presses the barrel on Amycl\'ee's forehead and he kills her : Amycl\'ee gives a start, her lips part from Djafar's softened cock, she falls backwards, her head bangs against the tiles and the foot of the petting seat ; Djafar, his cock shaking on the battledress, tramples Amycl\'ee's head. The children crowding around the madame's hips, lick their pistols. Djafar, putting his cock back in his battledress and buttoning himself, walks towards the bar, he takes a bottle from the hands of the dishwasher --- inside the dishwashing basin, sperm filaments swirl in the soapy water --- he drinks straight from the bottle, he throws it against the dishwasher's bare torso and he escapes into the street, his felt sandals striking the drenched asphalt. In the evening, he is at Loutrakion, on the other side of the river : his aides erect a blackboard in the middle of the village ; he, Djafar, standing on the town hall roof, watches for the people and threatens them with his rifle, his pistol, his dagger ; he keeps the slaughterhouse pistol inside his shirt, and he often pulls it out to kiss its barrel and its butt. @@ -1224,7 +1229,7 @@ The military, defeated in a former colonial war, seeing themselves victorious in \secbreak -Bandello the sergeant, the night of his arrival in Inamenas, clears the barrack block wall, he undresses in a deserted sentry box, he puts on his civilian clothes ; shirt and jeans ; he rolls the battledress under the sentry box, he runs away : his automatic pistol tight in the pocket of the jeans --- which, too short, he stole from his younger brother, when leaving Ecbatane. Bandetlo enters the brothel ; Serge squatting in the brothel's small garden, is waiting for Audry, the son of the police chief. Bandello keeps his jeans and shirt away from spatters. But, when the whore undresses him, she recognizes, around the boy's loins, the military underpants : she crumples them between her fingers, she unfastens them and, catching the boy by his cock, she pushes him against the bedstead, the underpants flopped down around his ankles~: +Bandello the sergeant, the night of his arrival in Inamenas, clears the barrack block wall, he undresses in a deserted sentry box, he puts on his civilian clothes ; shirt and jeans ; he rolls the battledress under the sentry box, he runs away : his automatic pistol tight in the pocket of the jeans --- which, too short, he stole from his younger brother, when leaving Ecbatane. Bandello enters the brothel ; Serge squatting in the brothel's small garden, is waiting for Audry, the son of the police chief. Bandello keeps his jeans and shirt away from spatters. But, when the whore undresses him, she recognizes, around the boy's loins, the military underpants : she crumples them between her fingers, she unfastens them and, catching the boy by his cock, she pushes him against the bedstead, the underpants flopped down around his ankles~: --- You have the skin of a metropolitan. Here, even the underneath of the mens' cocks is tanned. @@ -1250,7 +1255,7 @@ On his return, Fabienne gets out of bed, bends over Serge asleep all dressed ; h --- In the brothel, all desires, all despairs, all laughter spatter, cloud the windowpanes. ---- Emilienne, just now, lying beside our father, longs for you ; the faecal flavour of your body at night excites her and softens her heart, her hand turns you over and powders your buttocks, changes your underwear\ldots +--- Emilienne, just now, lying beside our father, longs for you ; the fecal flavour of your body at night excites her and softens her heart, her hand turns you over and powders your buttocks, changes your underwear\ldots Fabienne caresses Serge's belly, unfastens the shorts' rubber belt, Serge gives a start, he sits up straight, he slaps Fabienne's cheek~: @@ -1258,7 +1263,7 @@ Fabienne caresses Serge's belly, unfastens the shorts' rubber belt, Serge gives --- I love Audry, your hand that touched him tonight, he, Audry, doing evil and good. For him I let dry on his cheeks the secret tears of our natural father that in former times my tongue used to lick, I sitting on his knees and spitting for fun the cherry stones on his lips. -Audry's hair, very black, always wet, --- his mother and sister enjoy doing it several times a day, --- is combed backwards. After he has spoken, his lips still tremble for a while. Audry comes to the palace, Fabienne is passionate towards him, but, for the whole day, she disappears, accustoms her eyes to the darkness of a locked closet, holds back her tears, dresses Audry, hugs him, undresses him, hits him, protects him, convalescent, from the rain, keeps him, convalescing after an operation on his penis, from stumbling between the boat and the pier ; and, in the afternoon, when Audry and Serge walk side by side and riddle the young trunks with notches, with spittle, with buckshot, --- Emilienne, sitting in the verandah and sewing up lovingly the seams of Serge's shorts and shirts, --- she goes out, looking down with her dazzled eyes, she comes up to the chair where Audry's jacket is hanging, caresses the collar, slips her hand on the inside lining smelling of ink and tobacco, tries to catch a woman's perfume ; she quivers when both boys appear on the perron, shirt half-opened. Audry slips on his jacket and in the movement, his shoulder shows and Fabienne notices the white spots --- marks of injections and childhood vaccines ; she runs away in the park and screams, the sobs choking back the cries, the tears wetting the top of her dress ; she, unbuttoning the top of her dress and half-uncovering her breasts, climbs up the magnolia tree and, straddling a branch, flowers open on her knees and the pollen from the highest flowers powdering her eyelids, her cheeks and her breasts, she leans over a nest of purple birds and fondles the fledglings every time the mother-purple flies out hunting. +Audry's hair, very black, always wet, --- his mother and sister enjoy doing it several times a day, --- is combed backwards. After he has spoken, his lips still tremble for a while. Audry comes to the palace, Fabienne is passionate towards him, but, for the whole day, she disappears, accustoms her eyes to the darkness of a locked closet, holds back her tears, dresses Audry, hugs him, undresses him, hits him, protects him, convalescent, from the rain, keeps him, convalescing after an operation on his penis, from stumbling between the boat and the pier ; and, in the afternoon, when Audry and Serge walk side by side and riddle the young trunks with notches, with spittle, with buckshot, --- Emilienne, sitting in the veranda and sewing up lovingly the seams of Serge's shorts and shirts, --- she goes out, looking down with her dazzled eyes, she comes up to the chair where Audry's jacket is hanging, caresses the collar, slips her hand on the inside lining smelling of ink and tobacco, tries to catch a woman's perfume ; she quivers when both boys appear on the perron, shirt half-opened. Audry slips on his jacket and in the movement, his shoulder shows and Fabienne notices the white spots --- marks of injections and childhood vaccines ; she runs away in the park and screams, the sobs choking back the cries, the tears wetting the top of her dress ; she, unbuttoning the top of her dress and half-uncovering her breasts, climbs up the magnolia tree and, straddling a branch, flowers open on her knees and the pollen from the highest flowers powdering her eyelids, her cheeks and her breasts, she leans over a nest of purple birds and fondles the fledglings every time the mother-purple flies out hunting. \secbreak @@ -1278,7 +1283,7 @@ The rebels surround them, they disarm them : the police chief is gripped round t --- You killed my brother, this winter, in Yakouren. Since then, every night, I dream I'm turning over my dagger between the bones of your throat. You all think that we cannot live because of the way you despise us. You, slaves, sons of slaves. He was playing at knucklebones next to our house. You, leaning out of the command-car, with a blow of your stick you smashed his back and your convey plunges, vibrating, inside the storm. And, that evening, in camp, in the refectory where the quartermaster-sergeant is preparing to show a film, you show the stick to your comrades and with it you strike the neck and the loins of the youngest and the cowardliest among them ; and he, my brother, the child, later killer of your own, dies in the arms of our natural mother ; and you, standing against the watchtower's sheet steel, pricking up your ears to the cinema kisses and gunfire bursts, you wank and, in the intoxication of wine, you call your god, the dumb god, whose absence and silence earn the wrath of men. -The rebel steps towards the soldier, pushes his chin up with his weapon's barrel. He hits his cheeks, he smashes his jaw, the soldier is crying, he clings to his comrades, he holds his jaw ; kneeling in the mud, he presses the rebel's knees, he holds out his hands ; the rebel moves back, he walks away and, quick, turns round, fires at the soldier who collapses over his comrades' feet, belly split in two, blood spurting at the corner of his lips, his hands twisted and kneading the belt. The wireless peeps : the radio operator, disemboweled on the torn cushion, grabs the sender, types a short signal for help and collapses, head in the tufts of horsehair caught in the seat's springs. The rebels run away, except the one who, his ears deafened by the muddy water, washes in the river and is swimming breast- stroke over the water. Iguider's commandos appear on each side of the torrent, the rebel sees them, his head spins round, his hands beat the water~: +The rebel steps towards the soldier, pushes his chin up with his weapon's barrel. He hits his cheeks, he smashes his jaw, the soldier is crying, he clings to his comrades, he holds his jaw ; kneeling in the mud, he presses the rebel's knees, he holds out his hands ; the rebel moves back, he walks away and, quick, turns round, fires at the soldier who collapses over his comrades' feet, belly split in two, blood spurting at the corner of his lips, his hands twisted and kneading the belt. The wireless peeps : the radio operator, disemboweled on the torn cushion, grabs the sender, types a short signal for help and collapses, head in the tufts of horsehair caught in the seat's springs. The rebels run away, except the one who, his ears deafened by the muddy water, washes in the river and is swimming breast-stroke over the water. Iguider's commandos appear on each side of the torrent, the rebel sees them, his head spins round, his hands beat the water~: --- Come out, you're caught, you're alone. @@ -1292,7 +1297,7 @@ blood. The fish, excited, are nibbling his feet. Captain, come and see. You'll n % TODO~? -\noindent The body of the police chief is lying in the jeep, an officer, very young, with iron- +The body of the police chief is lying in the jeep, an officer, very young, with iron- rimmed spectacles, unfolds a tent canvas over the body. Against the truck, Gay Zodiac is struggling, he gnashes his teeth, a sergeant strikes his livid face, two comrades hold him by the shoulders~: @@ -1315,7 +1320,7 @@ They tie the rebel to the command-car, his hand vibrates on the tyre, in shreds, The rebel keeps quiet. So, the officers hand him over to the soldiers ; they part the rebel's legs, draw their daggers, a soldier --- negro --- grabs the cock, he holds it in his hand, he pulls at it, he makes the dagger's blade slide against the root whilst pushing apart the hair locks, then, watching, quick, the rebel's eyes, and bursting out laughing, in one go, with the blade he cuts off the penis ; the rebel screams, the soldier gets up, he squats, in the sand he drives his dagger, and his hand, spattered with blood and flesh ; the other soldiers trample, dreamily, the sliced off penis, kick it\ldots\ The black sweat shines, runs on the forehead, on the hands of the rebel, the belly heaves, grows hollow, the soldier throws away his dagger~: ---- Papefs, quick, newspapers, quick~! +--- Papers, quick, newspapers, quick~! Shaken by laughter, he waves his hands, in front of him ; the soldiers tear the newspapers covering the sheet-metal of the command-car and the explosives in the crates, they throw them between the rebel's thighs. The soldier draws his lighter, he grips it in his fist smeared with sand and blood, he lights it, he sets the papers on fire ; the flames lick, harden, blacken the wound, the rebel rolls his head against the tyre ; the slaver, red, runs on his white lips. The soldier, through the vibrations of the blaze, dances, makes his lighter crack~: @@ -1341,15 +1346,15 @@ Gay Zodiac's screams, his delirium fill the whole floor. While the soldiers carr The soldier pushes back the floorcloth with his shoe, he drags the slave in the boxroom for brooms and pails, at the far end of the hall, next to the pantry door ; he knocks her down in the dark, over the floorcloths and the brushes, the raised dust rasps their joined mouths, the soldier coughs, the soldier's foam and snot spatter the palate of the slave whose mouth swells ; the soldier spits, he disjoins his lips, his dribble and his snot vibrate in filaments between his teeth and those of the slave ; the soldier bites the slave's teeth, the slave's gums bleed, the soldier unbuttons himself, he undoes the knot made with the tails of the blouse at the level of his cock and uncovering and freeing the slave's legs for both pleasure and work, he covers the slave, he injects his venom into her, sperm held back during slaughter. The slave, shaken, grapples on to the soldier's shoulders with her nails, pinches the battledress, the soldier infuriated by these movements of unintentional fondness, grabs with his fist a tinplate shovel, he pulls it as far as the slave's shoulder, his cock burrowing into the slave's loosened belly and lifting the entrails and the child's germ ; the forced back sperm, swells the locks of the soldier's pubic hair ; the slave groans, her teeth bite the filaments of snot and foam and cut them off, her hair becomes tangled with the horsehair of the brushes and brooms ; the soldier withdraws his cock, he rises, he squats down, his softened cock resting on the fly's stretched buttonhole, he brandishes the shovel, he strikes the slave's belly, her cunt closing up under the stain ; the semen caught on the back of the waved shovel, spatters the soldier's face, his eyelashes, his eyebrows, his lips, the lobe of his ears, the wrinkles of anger on his forehead, his cheeks wet with tears~: ---- She's scoffing at me, my Ecbatane mouse. She betrays me with the factory mates. Pregnant. By them or me ? The birth, that will give me a leave. If it's a girl, one more cunt to fuck later on. You, who fucked you ? I add my colours. +--- She's scoffing at me, my Ecbatane mouse. She betrays me with the factory mates. Pregnant. By them or me~? The birth, that will give me a leave. If it's a girl, one more cunt to fuck later on. You, who fucked you~? I add my colours. Gay Zodiac soaks the pillow, the soldiers are sitting on the bed, they look at the walls, the trinkets, the portraits in the room. On the working surface, against a pile of books, a photo of Serge and Audry, tense and huddled together in a speedboat crossing the bay of Inamenas. Gay Zodiac, night darkening the room and the soldiers' cocks hardening under the battledress by the contact of the bedspread's warmed up fabric and by the sound of women's voices and sobs inside the palace, calms down, his shoulders become lighter and weigh upon the pillow, he falls asleep. The soldiers pierce the darkness with their weary eyes ; the distant sound of footsteps, of linen, of scent bottles fills them with sadness, a lump comes into their throat, they lay their hand on their guns. -Audry, kneeling in the death chamber, his chin in the shroud, looks up towards his father's pierced throat. The servant girls, his mother and Bi'{e}trix his sister, sponge up with military cloth the pink and fresh blood still springing from the wound. A little slave, picked up by Audry in the brothel garden, and whom the police chief enjoyed bathing himself and tickling in the evenings, after the games and the petty services --- and long after the bath, in the night, the little slave still laughed, head under the pillow, at the bottom of a cubicle in the linen room --- tightens his small fists around the bedstead, tears run on the collar of his half- opened blouse : an officer grabs him by the shoulders, then by the neck, and pulls him out of the room ; Audry rises, he rushes to the officer, releases the little slave, takes his hand, and makes him kneel against him and their heads are touching, on the crumpled shroud ; outside, the crowd has gathered at the Palace gates ; Audry hears the stamping, the women's you-yous, the cracking of snot in the children's nostrils, the rustling of tatters. He gets up, he moves his hand towards the wound, stops the women's hands covering it to sponge it up, strokes the scabs of hardened blood, dips his finger in the fresh blood ; then, rushes out of the chamber : on the landing, Serge appears, a rose at his ear --- a whore whose child he saved a short time ago from Bandello's hands, stuck it between his ear and his temple while he was sleeping this late afternoon, head leaning against the closed down latrines ; Audry catches him by the shoulders and kisses his armpit through the light shirt ; then he goes down, swiftly, he crosses the hall, pulls a rifle from the rack, loads it, jostles the sentries dozing in front of the palace gate, fires into the crowd until he has no bullets left ; the barrel burns his hands, he presses it against his bare belly, he keeps it ; sentries overpower him, the crowd shouts, scatters : two children, a woman lie quivering on the tepid asphalt. The sentries disarm Audry~: +Audry, kneeling in the death chamber, his chin in the shroud, looks up towards his father's pierced throat. The servant girls, his mother and Bi\'etrix his sister, sponge up with military cloth the pink and fresh blood still springing from the wound. A little slave, picked up by Audry in the brothel garden, and whom the police chief enjoyed bathing himself and tickling in the evenings, after the games and the petty services --- and long after the bath, in the night, the little slave still laughed, head under the pillow, at the bottom of a cubicle in the linen room --- tightens his small fists around the bedstead, tears run on the collar of his half-opened blouse : an officer grabs him by the shoulders, then by the neck, and pulls him out of the room ; Audry rises, he rushes to the officer, releases the little slave, takes his hand, and makes him kneel against him and their heads are touching, on the crumpled shroud ; outside, the crowd has gathered at the Palace gates ; Audry hears the stamping, the women's you-yous, the cracking of snot in the children's nostrils, the rustling of tatters. He gets up, he moves his hand towards the wound, stops the women's hands covering it to sponge it up, strokes the scabs of hardened blood, dips his finger in the fresh blood ; then, rushes out of the chamber : on the landing, Serge appears, a rose at his ear --- a whore whose child he saved a short time ago from Bandello's hands, stuck it between his ear and his temple while he was sleeping this late afternoon, head leaning against the closed down latrines ; Audry catches him by the shoulders and kisses his armpit through the light shirt ; then he goes down, swiftly, he crosses the hall, pulls a rifle from the rack, loads it, jostles the sentries dozing in front of the palace gate, fires into the crowd until he has no bullets left ; the barrel burns his hands, he presses it against his bare belly, he keeps it ; sentries overpower him, the crowd shouts, scatters : two children, a woman lie quivering on the tepid asphalt. The sentries disarm Audry~: --- You did well. We're on your side. -Audry is trembling, an officer takes him by the hand ; the women, on the top of the stairs, embrace the boy ; Audry is lying in his room, on the bed from which Gay Zodiac rises, leaving the hole of his heavy and warm and wet body ; by his bedside, Bi'{e}trix, his mother, and Serge, standing against the dressing cupboard ; Audry whines : since he is in bed, he hasn't once turned over, his shirt is wet at the armpits, sweat makes a long scintillating trail along his back, from the nape down to the waist. +Audry is trembling, an officer takes him by the hand ; the women, on the top of the stairs, embrace the boy ; Audry is lying in his room, on the bed from which Gay Zodiac rises, leaving the hole of his heavy and warm and wet body ; by his bedside, Bi\'etrix, his mother, and Serge, standing against the dressing cupboard ; Audry whines : since he is in bed, he hasn't once turned over, his shirt is wet at the armpits, sweat makes a long scintillating trail along his back, from the nape down to the waist. Soldiers, officers, reporters go out into the night, the softened asphalt sinks under their feet ; dead bodies have been picked up, streets are deserted, the sand brought by the crowd, stirs on the dark asphalt. Jeeps drive slowly by the footpaths, crammed with helmeted soldiers, their weapons raised. @@ -1373,7 +1378,7 @@ Barclay gets out, moves his hand on the blanket, the hand is stained with blood --- You all right, Jimmy~? -The other soldier comes down, blanket and rifle mixed on the shoulder, he jumps on the sand : Jimmy Borghese, chin and throat soiled with vomit glowing in the moonlight, grips in his fist, the ladder's rung and he turns on his foot : \said{O fucking army. Fucking army}, spits, sniffs up his vomit, whimpers~: +The other soldier comes down, blanket and rifle mixed on the shoulder, he jumps on the sand : Jimmy Borghese, chin and throat soiled with vomit glowing in the moonlight, grips in his fist, the ladder's rung and he turns on his foot : \speech{O fucking army. Fucking army}, spits, sniffs up his vomit, whimpers~: --- O mummy. It's those fucking Americans' fault. In the commandos they eat cats. They've hanged the paws and the claws on the tent stakes, they spit the pieces in the beers\ldots\ haven't seen anything~? @@ -1385,13 +1390,13 @@ The other soldier comes down, blanket and rifle mixed on the shoulder, he jumps Jimmy Borghese climbs up the watchtower, rifle beating his chest, battledress buttons getting caught to the rungs of the ladder. He lays the blanket on the edge of the tower and the rifle against the protective sheet metal, he moves the searchlight : the beam scours the barbed wires, the trenches, the swamps, the shacks in the slums, the shelter of the trees, the heaps of debris, the sewers at ground level, the droppings and the turds on the wet sand, the broods of jackals asleep or hypnotized. The soldier is alone, drowned in the haze of heat, where the crowings, at the first of dawn, of cocks, burst, muffled ; crushed by the damp shadow ; he raises the searchlight towards the mountains : far away, immaterial, frozen, ice packs of rock and shadow : Jimmy Borghese drowns his gaze in them, breathes their altitude and their darkness, but his eyes close : mosquitoes strike his brow and roll down his cheeks ; the petrol running from the tanks under the trucks, croaks, solitary and stubborn tree frog and Jimmy strokes it by the water, but Jacky, the brother, paints his eyes and his lips and prostitutes himself inside the sports cars of Ecbatane, but back in the village, the farmhands throw him bound hand and foot in the clay, they slaughter him with pruning knifes and hoes, Jacky's head rolls in the pond's swillings where his blood and his makeup blend~: ---- O ! Jimmy ! Nothing to report ? You're asleep, my fat one~? +--- O~! Jimmy~! Nothing to report~? You're asleep, my fat one~? The sergeant aims his torch at the watchtower ; Jimmy Borghese, dazzled, protects his eyes with his arm : he's on the seat and Eber Lobato's sperm wets the bottom of his thighs ; he rises, he leans out, he shivers, the sergeant sweeps the sand with his rubber-soled canvas shoes~: --- There's been trouble, at the commandos, they bled Hecate, the captain's bitch, to eat it. The captain, he's been whipping them for two hours on their beds with his belt. The bitch they ate half of it : the bowels and the legs. Barclay, 'e was dancing all naked with the ears of the bitch, bloody, fastened to the temples with a shoelace, the captain, he came in, he lashed him with the belt, Barclay's head was ringing against the stove. The captain, he's in a sweat, he hits, he whips ; the naked commandos hide under the camp beds, protect themselves with the knapsacks. Gay Zodiac, entangled in his sleeping bag, he holds out his arm, the belt's buckle pierces his hand, and the captain, he hurls himself at Gay Zodiac, he tears the wound, he widens it. -The tent is all spattered. The burning candles fall on the blankets. The captain, in the smoke and dust, he whips the white bodies passing and leaping on the blazing beds. The prisoners, set free by me, pour pails of water, the tent collapses. Fuck, all of them, except Gay Zodiac, they got out in time, they hide in the trucks, the captain, he strikes the flames, the dust, he strikes himself, he whips the prisoners and their hands gripping the pails' handle, he tramples the flames, he pulls out the charred limbs of Hecate, he presses them on his chest, he bites them, he burns his lips on them, the prisoners extract from under his blazing camp bed Gay Zodiac unconscious, burnt, blood is grilling on the wound of his hand. I take him in my arms, I carry him to the infirmary. The captain, he climbs the GMC truck's running board, he whips the commandos huddled inside the cab and shivering in the rising wind ; the probationary medical officer overpowers the captain ; with the tears, water rises in the captain's burnt eyes. The guys from the garage and engines, have sheltered under their tents the naked commandos and the grilled hair. They smear their hands, their thighs, their lips, with ointment and margarine, they bandage their burns, the guys from the garage and engines make coffee on the charcoal pans ; Barclay unties the shoelace holding Hecate's cut ears on his temples, he drinks three mugs of coffee, he opens with his teeth a big bottle of beer, he dips his pink-lipped cock in the head and rising over the neck and in one gulp, he swalfows the beer and his feet strike the pebbles ; the commandos fling themselves on the empty camp beds --- those of the boys carrying out a mission --- and fall asleep, lying on their side, knees against the chin, buttocks parted and dawn's sharp wind freezes their asshole. +The tent is all spattered. The burning candles fall on the blankets. The captain, in the smoke and dust, he whips the white bodies passing and leaping on the blazing beds. The prisoners, set free by me, pour pails of water, the tent collapses. Fuck, all of them, except Gay Zodiac, they got out in time, they hide in the trucks, the captain, he strikes the flames, the dust, he strikes himself, he whips the prisoners and their hands gripping the pails' handle, he tramples the flames, he pulls out the charred limbs of Hecate, he presses them on his chest, he bites them, he burns his lips on them, the prisoners extract from under his blazing camp bed Gay Zodiac unconscious, burnt, blood is grilling on the wound of his hand. I take him in my arms, I carry him to the infirmary. The captain, he climbs the GMC truck's running board, he whips the commandos huddled inside the cab and shivering in the rising wind ; the probationary medical officer overpowers the captain ; with the tears, water rises in the captain's burnt eyes. The guys from the garage and engines, have sheltered under their tents the naked commandos and the grilled hair. They smear their hands, their thighs, their lips, with ointment and margarine, they bandage their burns, the guys from the garage and engines make coffee on the charcoal pans ; Barclay unties the shoelace holding Hecate's cut ears on his temples, he drinks three mugs of coffee, he opens with his teeth a big bottle of beer, he dips his pink-lipped cock in the head and rising over the neck and in one gulp, he swallows the beer and his feet strike the pebbles ; the commandos fling themselves on the empty camp beds --- those of the boys carrying out a mission --- and fall asleep, lying on their side, knees against the chin, buttocks parted and dawn's sharp wind freezes their asshole. In the morning, and during the whole of morning, platoons are on patrol in the streets of the lower city : soldiers sing, their arms are red, their eyes search the facades of cob and sheet metal and the half-opened doors, try to catch sight of a bare arm, shoulder, breast through the panes : a naked child, squatting in the ravaged garden, drinks water caught in a battered cardboard box : dust runs in the folds of the battledress ; the weapon, barrel pointed downwards, bruises the hip, the soldier carries with him the smell of dust and sweat and beer mixed together, his speech hoarse and suddenly clear during slaughter : peasants, craftsmen, merchants of the poor district, fight, slaughter the soldiers, whores betray them but all pity them. One never kills one's foe, only his slaves. @@ -1427,9 +1432,9 @@ The soldiers, sprawling on the straw mattresses, grab the film magazines : ink s The cardinal walks in his garden, wearing shoes of leather and fur, his feet, suffering from the wait and immobility, are macerating. He is thinking of the solitary meal that will soon be served in the fresh and sweet-smelling dining room, of the white arm of the young sister, on the tablecloth, of the apples coming out of her bosom. Birds shoot out of the clumps of boxtrees, beetles roll upon the roses. He has met the army chaplains, they have assured him of the troops' religious cleanliness. Since the beginning of the war, his mind is asleep, he does not see the war around him ; he wonders at the great number of gunshots and explosions, of maimed children, of widows ; he wonders at the puffing of the soldiers kneeling and receiving Holy Communion from his hands. Here, the trees of the enclosure stop the scents of blood and fire ; heaps of carrion, of dead carcasses, are picked up every evening by the slave gardener. At night, rats dive in the ponds, but the cardinal is sleeping behind his damasked curtains, hands crossed upon his chest ; on the bedside table, under the lamp in front of which darkens a small photograph of a boy wearing a sailor suit, hands joined between the parted thighs on the navy blue shorts, the sister has laid the flasks, the glass, the carafe of icy water ; at night, the cardinal often wakes up with a start, he then rises on his knees, looks at the holy image of some fop with a bloody forehead, joins his hands and prays ; after that, he softly lies on his back again and falls asleep, listening to the sea. The waves from the sea and the wind from the mountains lull prisoners and slaves to sleep. A tall iris is trembling in front of the cardinal's window. -The sister, lying in the cubicle, dismisses the bad thoughts, pushes away, unlaces her coiffe, unbuttons the top of her dress, places her hands on her bosom, stares at the warm whitewashed wall, prays. A gust of wind brings inside the cubicle the scent of grass, of man ; the sister prays, clasps her bosom. Outside, the tinkling of the springs smells of blood, of sap, has the flavour of sperm, the eucalyptus trunks crack like arms, glisten like knees, the mountain peaks capsize, shaken like the sweaty hair, darkened, on the pillow. In the cool shade, on earth and on dry sand, insects are mating, luminous, jerky. +The sister, lying in the cubicle, dismisses the bad thoughts, pushes away, unlaces her coif, unbuttons the top of her dress, places her hands on her bosom, stares at the warm whitewashed wall, prays. A gust of wind brings inside the cubicle the scent of grass, of man ; the sister prays, clasps her bosom. Outside, the tinkling of the springs smells of blood, of sap, has the flavour of sperm, the eucalyptus trunks crack like arms, glisten like knees, the mountain peaks capsize, shaken like the sweaty hair, darkened, on the pillow. In the cool shade, on earth and on dry sand, insects are mating, luminous, jerky. -The cardinal can't stand the cold, he likes sweets, he has no more desires, he isn't turned on by women any more, not even by the slim youths diving in the pool ; long ago, at the Ecbatane college, they talk about their worried souls, legs bare on the armchair's red velvet. In front of the door, after confession, he strokes their cheeks bathed in tears, his hand moves downwards, flattens the down on the neck, palpates the back's vertebrae rolling soft and fragile, under his fingers. During walks, in holiday camp, schoolboys let \said{mummy} twist their arms and pull their hair. In summer, he spends the day watching absentmindedly, the games of the naked schoolboys in the pool's green and filtered water. The title of former army chaplain gives him authority over the boys. Those see, in his slight limping --- adolescent, he was kicked by a comrade smoker and tout for the brothel where he hides from his divorced mother --- denounced by him to the Father Superior --- the result of a wound of youth at the army front. Summer shines over Ecbatane ; meeting the parents, he sees that the most handsome among the boys, enlist in the flying camp~: +The cardinal can't stand the cold, he likes sweets, he has no more desires, he isn't turned on by women any more, not even by the slim youths diving in the pool ; long ago, at the Ecbatane college, they talk about their worried souls, legs bare on the armchair's red velvet. In front of the door, after confession, he strokes their cheeks bathed in tears, his hand moves downwards, flattens the down on the neck, palpates the back's vertebrae rolling soft and fragile, under his fingers. During walks, in holiday camp, schoolboys let \speech{mummy} twist their arms and pull their hair. In summer, he spends the day watching absentmindedly, the games of the naked schoolboys in the pool's green and filtered water. The title of former army chaplain gives him authority over the boys. Those see, in his slight limping --- adolescent, he was kicked by a comrade smoker and tout for the brothel where he hides from his divorced mother --- denounced by him to the Father Superior --- the result of a wound of youth at the army front. Summer shines over Ecbatane ; meeting the parents, he sees that the most handsome among the boys, enlist in the flying camp~: --- Your boy needs to live in a team. The open air will harden him. @@ -1447,7 +1452,7 @@ A boy, barefooted, pyjamas shirt unbuttoned, faces him all of a sudden, at the c --- To enjoy the fresh air. ---- You know you're not allowed to go out ? You must be fast asleep in the arms of God. +--- You know you're not allowed to go out~? You must be fast asleep in the arms of God. --- Yes, but I'm doing no wrong and I want to see the night. @@ -1477,7 +1482,7 @@ The boy holds out his arm, his hand drags on the tennis court's wire netting, pu --- Bathe, you have my permission. ---- The Father Superior is still awake, his window is lit, what if he hears the noise of water ?\ldots\ You'll stay by the edge to explain ?\ldots +--- The Father Superior is still awake, his window is lit, what if he hears the noise of water~?\ldots\ You'll stay by the edge to explain~?\ldots --- Bathe naked ; we're among men. Go. @@ -1513,7 +1518,7 @@ Illiten, chief of the rebels, is in Inamenas until morning. With his own hand, h \secbreak -Serge rolls his head and his hips on the bed : Audry, lying, quivers, desperate, on his own bed, stroked by his mother and his belly by Bi'{e}trix. Audry, head and body shrouded in the net of his tears and of his trembling, whines, gradually gets his second wind, like a sprawled beast, after the hunt and capture. He is now free to steal, to kill, to make himself be loved by men. Serge, standing against the window, naked, the sheet flowing on the tiled floor, rubs his cheek to the shutter. +Serge rolls his head and his hips on the bed : Audry, lying, quivers, desperate, on his own bed, stroked by his mother and his belly by Bi\'etrix. Audry, head and body shrouded in the net of his tears and of his trembling, whines, gradually gets his second wind, like a sprawled beast, after the hunt and capture. He is now free to steal, to kill, to make himself be loved by men. Serge, standing against the window, naked, the sheet flowing on the tiled floor, rubs his cheek to the shutter. \secbreak @@ -1562,17 +1567,17 @@ Inamenas welcomes the new chief of Ecbatane's democracy. The excited crowd moves Serge, after the high school and the sea bathing, leaves the stadium, he runs to the palace of the police ; the doors are wide open, soldiers, blankets on their arms, are hurrying up the stairs. Serge enters Audry's room, the boy gets out -of bed, he lets himself be dressed and combed by his mother and Bi'{e}trix~: +of bed, he lets himself be dressed and combed by his mother and Bi\'etrix~: --- He's leaving, to the jail, at El\"{o}, in the mountains. He hasn't said a word since yesterday. He didn't go to visit the families. He's been trembling all night long. -Bi'{e}trix, when she leaves the room, goes down to the entrance hall, strokes the piled rifles, the one that took part in the slaughter ; for her, it still vibrates and burns. +Bi\'etrix, when she leaves the room, goes down to the entrance hall, strokes the piled rifles, the one that took part in the slaughter ; for her, it still vibrates and burns. ----- Serge, you're not the one to carry a gun. Pussycat, I want to go with you, to El\"{o}, I'll live in a tiny hut, next to the Centre, and in the evening, I'll stroke, l'll kiss your hands still vibrating from the pneumatic drill and ali the other tools of slavery. Serge, you too, kill and come with us to El\"{o}. Kill : during your mother's agony, they were shouting beneath the windows to soften your father and enrol him in their rebellion. Go out and kill. +---- Serge, you're not the one to carry a gun. Pussycat, I want to go with you, to El\"{o}, I'll live in a tiny hut, next to the Centre, and in the evening, I'll stroke, I'll kiss your hands still vibrating from the pneumatic drill and all the other tools of slavery. Serge, you too, kill and come with us to El\"{o}. Kill : during your mother's agony, they were shouting beneath the windows to soften your father and enroll him in their rebellion. Go out and kill. --- He killed children\ldots ---- Bi'{e}trix~! +--- Bi\'etrix~! And all of a sudden, Audry utters a long, dying animal's cry. @@ -1614,7 +1619,7 @@ Then his shoulder begins hurting, he strokes it with his other hand ; his face i The soldiers move away, Crazy Horse bends over a rebel's body, a soldier bends down, draws his knife~: ---- Wait ! Leave him for me ! I'm the one who bumped him off~! +--- Wait~! Leave him for me~! I'm the one who bumped him off~! The dead man's lips are still trembling ; Crazy Horse bends down again, draws Illiten's knife, takes the rebel's ears and cuts them off at the root ; then, he slips them in the pocket of his battledress, over the thigh ; at once, the cloth turns black, the blood, still warm, goes through the pocket's cloth and runs down Crazy Horse's thigh~: @@ -1628,15 +1633,15 @@ Then, after having done with Illiten, Crazy Horse turns pale and falls unconscio The echo, the smoke, the embers of the ambush, raised, enter the village of B\`{a}li, settle on the granite posts and the palm porch roofs, stroke the faces of the children asleep on the terraces, between the drying grounds of pomegranates and figs. The boys lying naked on the straw mats, knees folded against the belly, the movement spreading their buttocks soiled with violet turds, mouth stained and swollen with juniper gruel, the girls huddled against their mother, brow and hair wrapped in a headband Scented with pepper. Between the stone village and the torrent with banks eroded by the tide's salt, the tent village stays awake : young men play music under the repudiated wives' tent ; children with shaven head, except for a tuft of hair greased with ebony powder, growing from the fontanel, are dozing on the sand, naked and the cheek leaning on a palmtree stake ; those whom nightmares torment, their mothers lift their shoulders, open their mouth for their fingers to smear it with a cypress jam that they brought back from the desert, gathered and given to them by nomads, on the last day of the cool season, in exchange for their bodies offered at the time of the rising sun in the hollows covered with cut grass from a high valley with painted walls of rock ; the children, when the jam touches their lips, whimper, nibble their mother's breast. -The rebels, two commandos formed of former Tamrit butcher's boys sent on a punitive expedition against B\`{a}li, a village resisting both the rebel recruitment and the collection of taxes --- two collectors were thrown into the torrent, the night before the yearly departure towards the desert --- are prowling along the torrent ; when the moon touches the watchtower, the cornloft and the public square of B\`{a}li, dazzling the lookout men and throwing the immediate surroundings into darkness, the rebels jump in the torrent ; soaked, choking, mouth nauseated by the magnesian water, cloth and wool sticking to the body, cock retracted, they cling to the bank's reeds, they spring, knife pointed forwards ; the sand they trample and raise smears their legs, their knees and the bottom of their thighs, the bend of the knee and the bottom of their buttocks ; in front of the tent village, they break up ; each one hurls himself at the chosen tent ; in the same time, women and children, animals, --- everything that yells ---, are slaughtered : then the rebels encircle the young men's tent --- the older ones who were rambling on squatting in front of a fire of rush, on the bank, the rebels already kicked them in the water and drowned. The rebels knock the tent over, throw stones at it, hit, club the young people and the repudiated wives with stakes, bodies writhe under the collapsed tent, a woman's leg sticks out through a torn seam ; the stakes smash the young men's legs, pound their heads and their genitals ; stones crush their bellies and their chests ; dogs run in circles on the canvas permeated with blood, the rebels grab them by the tail and the ears, they slaughter them ; one of them tears off with his knife and fingers a young dog's head and fastens it to his face by tying on his temple two bloody straps passed through the dog's mouth and holding it open. They trample the canvas where it is swelled by the women's rattle ; scents come out from under the canvas ; the rebel with the young dog's head tramples a violin pressed against a young man's neck ; then, squatting down, he tears the seam and bites from the stirred earth mixed with incense a piece of butter smeared with sand, he devours it, growling and spitting out the sand ; when he gets up, his whole face, his throat, the top of his chest and his shoulders, are shining, he puts his hand on his forehead covered with a cold sweat, he collapses on the pile of canvas, stones and stakes ; a light and scented wind, coming from the orchards of the opposite bank of Tletz, bathes the torrent, the reeds, the pebbles, the rose laurels ; the young rebel rises on his elbows, he breathes the perfume, on his lips and on his uncovered throat are blending the butter and the blood that spurted from the mouth of the young people smothered head to head ; he gets up and ties again the dog's head to his bloody temple. All dash forward, they wipe their knives on the grass, the blades slide on the violet flowers where bees are vibrating. In the Tletz post, soldiers pull the prisoners out of the pigsty, they bind them naked to a ladder they lean against the latrine's roof, the greenhorns are pushed inside the latrine, forced to plunge the sticks in the shit and, out in the air again, to paint the prisoners' buttocks, their backs ; the radio operator works the electric generator, the wind shakes the inspection lamps hanging from the washing line, shakes the shadow of the prisoner's cock and tuft of hair under the belly : a greenhorn drives the stick between the buttocks of a young prisoner with his head bandaged, and searches his ass until it bleeds ; then he fixes the other end of the stick against the latrine's steps and, wiping his hands on his hips, he goes to sit on the mess staircase where crates of beer are stacked, between the legs of the soldiers, drunk and vomiting : he takes a bottle, he seizes the neck between his teeth, bites the cap but one of his teeth breaks and, uttering a little cry, he spits ; a negro soldier, sprawled against him, takes the bottle, bites the neck wet with spittle, pulls off the cap and spits it on the greenhorn's penis, drinks a quarter of the bottle and, turning away to vomit, throws it on the young soldier's belly, foam runs between the thighs, blackening the battledress at the spot where the cock swells it ; the soldier, after drinking, takes his cock in the cloth with both his hands, he presses it, he crushes it against the cement of the stairs ; flies drink in his eyes the rising tears ; the rebel with the bandaged head, groans ; the ties binding his feet and knees to the ladder loosen, the loins weigh heavily and the stake penetrates further in ; soldiers dressed with civilian pyjamas in tatters, come down from the gallery, to drink, their dogs pressed between their thighs, their trampled hair all rustling with lice ; the stake, driven as far as the middle of the body, pushes forward the penis and the testicles ; a flight of grey cranes soars above the post ; the soldiers spit in the air ; a soldier remaining alone in the barrackroom, kisses, naked and holding his cock with both hands, the technicolor photo of an undressed actress, he draws away his lips marked by the printed colours, he throws himself, groaning, flat on his stomach on the straw mattress, mouth gasping, then he rises on his knees, leaning on one hand, the other one clutching his cock and beginning to wank, head bent under the shoulder watching the cock giow red under the shade of his belly. +The rebels, two commandos formed of former Tamrit butcher's boys sent on a punitive expedition against B\`{a}li, a village resisting both the rebel recruitment and the collection of taxes --- two collectors were thrown into the torrent, the night before the yearly departure towards the desert --- are prowling along the torrent ; when the moon touches the watchtower, the cornloft and the public square of B\`{a}li, dazzling the lookout men and throwing the immediate surroundings into darkness, the rebels jump in the torrent ; soaked, choking, mouth nauseated by the magnesian water, cloth and wool sticking to the body, cock retracted, they cling to the bank's reeds, they spring, knife pointed forwards ; the sand they trample and raise smears their legs, their knees and the bottom of their thighs, the bend of the knee and the bottom of their buttocks ; in front of the tent village, they break up ; each one hurls himself at the chosen tent ; in the same time, women and children, animals, --- everything that yells ---, are slaughtered : then the rebels encircle the young men's tent --- the older ones who were rambling on squatting in front of a fire of rush, on the bank, the rebels already kicked them in the water and drowned. The rebels knock the tent over, throw stones at it, hit, club the young people and the repudiated wives with stakes, bodies writhe under the collapsed tent, a woman's leg sticks out through a torn seam ; the stakes smash the young men's legs, pound their heads and their genitals ; stones crush their bellies and their chests ; dogs run in circles on the canvas permeated with blood, the rebels grab them by the tail and the ears, they slaughter them ; one of them tears off with his knife and fingers a young dog's head and fastens it to his face by tying on his temple two bloody straps passed through the dog's mouth and holding it open. They trample the canvas where it is swelled by the women's rattle ; scents come out from under the canvas ; the rebel with the young dog's head tramples a violin pressed against a young man's neck ; then, squatting down, he tears the seam and bites from the stirred earth mixed with incense a piece of butter smeared with sand, he devours it, growling and spitting out the sand ; when he gets up, his whole face, his throat, the top of his chest and his shoulders, are shining, he puts his hand on his forehead covered with a cold sweat, he collapses on the pile of canvas, stones and stakes ; a light and scented wind, coming from the orchards of the opposite bank of Tletz, bathes the torrent, the reeds, the pebbles, the rose laurels ; the young rebel rises on his elbows, he breathes the perfume, on his lips and on his uncovered throat are blending the butter and the blood that spurted from the mouth of the young people smothered head to head ; he gets up and ties again the dog's head to his bloody temple. All dash forward, they wipe their knives on the grass, the blades slide on the violet flowers where bees are vibrating. In the Tletz post, soldiers pull the prisoners out of the pigsty, they bind them naked to a ladder they lean against the latrine's roof, the greenhorns are pushed inside the latrine, forced to plunge the sticks in the shit and, out in the air again, to paint the prisoners' buttocks, their backs ; the radio operator works the electric generator, the wind shakes the inspection lamps hanging from the washing line, shakes the shadow of the prisoner's cock and tuft of hair under the belly : a greenhorn drives the stick between the buttocks of a young prisoner with his head bandaged, and searches his ass until it bleeds ; then he fixes the other end of the stick against the latrine's steps and, wiping his hands on his hips, he goes to sit on the mess staircase where crates of beer are stacked, between the legs of the soldiers, drunk and vomiting : he takes a bottle, he seizes the neck between his teeth, bites the cap but one of his teeth breaks and, uttering a little cry, he spits ; a negro soldier, sprawled against him, takes the bottle, bites the neck wet with spittle, pulls off the cap and spits it on the greenhorn's penis, drinks a quarter of the bottle and, turning away to vomit, throws it on the young soldier's belly, foam runs between the thighs, blackening the battledress at the spot where the cock swells it ; the soldier, after drinking, takes his cock in the cloth with both his hands, he presses it, he crushes it against the cement of the stairs ; flies drink in his eyes the rising tears ; the rebel with the bandaged head, groans ; the ties binding his feet and knees to the ladder loosen, the loins weigh heavily and the stake penetrates further in ; soldiers dressed with civilian pyjamas in tatters, come down from the gallery, to drink, their dogs pressed between their thighs, their trampled hair all rustling with lice ; the stake, driven as far as the middle of the body, pushes forward the penis and the testicles ; a flight of grey cranes soars above the post ; the soldiers spit in the air ; a soldier remaining alone in the barrackroom, kisses, naked and holding his cock with both hands, the technicolor photo of an undressed actress, he draws away his lips marked by the printed colours, he throws himself, groaning, flat on his stomach on the straw mattress, mouth gasping, then he rises on his knees, leaning on one hand, the other one clutching his cock and beginning to wank, head bent under the shoulder watching the cock glow red under the shade of his belly. -The rebels enter, wearing rope-soled espadrilles, in B\`{a}li's lower streets, they brush aside the palmtree boughs covering the gardens, the scent of beans and illicit opium, released, rises to their nostrils, softens their heart and strengthens their hand. They swarm into B\`{a}li fast asleep ; the lookout men, dazzled by the moon, are watching the torrent ; the bright smokes of the fires where old men were warming themselves, in the reeds vanish in the darkness veiled with blood. The rebels scale the watchtower and the cornloft, they bury their knives in the backs of the collapsing lookout men, their head hitting the cob made of turf and palms ; the rebels, with one stab of the knife, slit their throat ; then they lift them up and throw them over the rampart walk, the bodies crash on the white rocks, blood and brains flow down as far as the torrent and the toads wallow in them. Then the rebels scatter in the village : the peasants, woken up, grab palm sticks, sickles, wooden ploughshares ; the rebels leap forward, pull away their wooden weapons from the peasants, they push them back towards the public square ; the young rebel with the dog's head, who is carrying the commando's only firearm, threatens the peasants with his automatic pistol ; now and then, he lifts his mask and his face appears smeared with blood, brains ; the rebels smash the doors, plunge in the darkness on the women huddled against the cob, they unbutton themselves and rape and kill at the same time ; often two rebels drive their knives together in some child's lower body, blades grind in the perforated intestine. The young rebel gives his weapon to the commando chief, who, lips foamy, insults the peasants ; the young rebel, still wearing his young dog's head, runs to the plunder ; with his mask, he burrows into the women's open belly, the children's slit throat ; the rebels run, round-shouldered, among houses and streets ; anaked child is screaming on a terrace ; four rebels climb up the house's corners, jump on the terrace ; they seize the child, they lift him up and four times, they throw him in the air and move backwards ; the child falls on the cob, his back, his loins, his nape, his knees, broken, turn blue under the moonlight : a rebel grabs from the drying room a hatchet for grafting fig trees, he brandishes it, the rebels step back, the hatchet slits the throat, slashes the chest, the belly and the knees ; the penis, cut off, sticks to the hatchet, the rebel rubs it against the bend of his knee, the penis stays hanging there, the rebel shakes his leg, he insults the child, he angrily tramples the head, it comes apart from the neck, the rebel chops the neck's vessels and muscles and nerves, with the hatchet, he grabs the head by its hair, he thrusts his fist in the wound, the rebels let themselves fall along the walls, they join the other ones assembled on the public square ; all are trembling, their hands hold scraps of fabric, tufts of hair are stuck by blood on their throat, their hands clutch broken toys, wooden spoons ; the chief orders the peasants to run to the far end of the village ; with his commandos, he pushes them in an alley, he packs them in the village slaughterhouse ; the two latticed windows and the barred door look on to the precipice ; the chief has the door smashed by two young rebels with throats decorated by stolen coral necklaces ; he leans his back against the dividing wall ; a scared old man's urine runs in the gutter smeared with dry blood which divides the centre of the room, gently sloping towards the smashed door ; the chief points at a young peasant whose tight headband holds a few thorny flowers, the two commandos grab him by the hair and push him in front of the chief whose arms are copper coloured by blood ; the chief hits the young peasant's throat with his fist, he takes his cock in the same fist and strokes it with the butt of his automatic pistol ; then, leaving the weapon pressed on the cock, he tilts the barrel towards the peasant's throat, pulls the trigger, the bullet smashes the jaw, the teeth, shattered run on the chief's wrist, the two commandos support the young peasant by the shoulders, the chief kicks the peasant's loins, the commandos hurl him down the ravine, the body bounces in the darkness, the belly and thighs one moment uncovered --- the tatters are hovering around the body --- cast a glimmer of rainy dawn. Thus, the slaughterhouse's mallet smashing their nape or penis, the peasants are all hurled down, except a frightened old man sitting in his urine, they pull him up by force and hang him by the throat to the portico's shaken meat hook ; the young rebel with the dog's head pulls crates of sodas and sacks of semolina out of the grocery ; while all, sprawled on the public square, drink and eat the grain, head in the sack, a few injured women and children, come crawling out of the houses, drag themselves along the walls, marking the cob with long red trails, often vertical, the two rebels decorated with earrings and necklaces, jump up, throw themselves on the women, bear on their smashed or maimed limbs ; then, when the wind freezes their sweat, they get up again, the front of the body covered with shreds of dress stuck to their clothes by blood ; the little children who flee covering their wounds with both hands, they nail them to the blacksmith's wall with the points of blue steel, facing the orient. A few vultures, chased from the slaughter bathing the rock and the onyx slabs, fly up the ravine and, clinging to the cob, tear the crucified bodies ; they soar over the terrace and dive in the streets ; the flapping of their wings hits the back of the squatting rebels, mouth smeared with soda and semolina ; a vulture soars above the dog's head rebel asleep on a punctured sack, it wheels, it comes down ; the rebel yawns, the vulture rises again and drops its shit in the young rebel's open mouth. The tumult of the slaughter awakens the officer at the Tletz post, he goes down to the empty courtyard : the soldiers have locked up the prisoners in the pigsty, the one they impaled is writhing on the manure, he spits a blue foam on the wrists of his comrades holding him in their arms. In B\`{a}li, the groaning has ceased, the rebels, sprawled, rise to their feet again. Dawn appears in the torrent, the vultures fly away from the reeds and the rocks, -some of them hold in their beak a quarter of flesh crossed by a leather strap or by lace from some cloth. Dew sparkles on the ransacked tents, vultures tear the collapsed canvas, uncover the bodies caught in the sand, a stake piercing the belly. The officer tramples the smashed bottles, he walks up again inside the post, climbs the hatch of the watchtower, the sentry shivers, sleepy, his forehead covered with dew, the corner of his lips smeared with sweet coffee ; the officer, moving his chest close to the soldier's, drops a quick kiss on the trace of coffee, their eyebrows touch, the officer places his hand on the soldier's cock, and the soldier, his on the officer's thigh : \said{The wind is blowing blood, lieutenant.} The officer pushes, gently knocks down the soldier on the protection sheet, pressing the boy's loins against the top of the steel sheet, with his hips and his hand supports the nape tilted in the searchlight's beam ; then appear on the soldier's shadowless face, the razor's gashes, the dried salivas and snots, the stings and the excremental and seminal deposits from mosquitoes, the small curls pulled off from the hair of his hardened cock by the soldier and laid, rolled around his fingers on the sweaty cheeks ; the officer kisses the cuts, blows the curls towards the soldier's nostrils, his tongue pierces the carapace of snot at the opening of the nostrils and searches them ; the soldier's cock hardens against his hip and his against the soldier's hip ; the machine gun, abandoned, swings in the wind~: +The rebels enter, wearing rope-soled espadrilles, in B\`{a}li's lower streets, they brush aside the palmtree boughs covering the gardens, the scent of beans and illicit opium, released, rises to their nostrils, softens their heart and strengthens their hand. They swarm into B\`{a}li fast asleep ; the lookout men, dazzled by the moon, are watching the torrent ; the bright smokes of the fires where old men were warming themselves, in the reeds vanish in the darkness veiled with blood. The rebels scale the watchtower and the cornloft, they bury their knives in the backs of the collapsing lookout men, their head hitting the cob made of turf and palms ; the rebels, with one stab of the knife, slit their throat ; then they lift them up and throw them over the rampart walk, the bodies crash on the white rocks, blood and brains flow down as far as the torrent and the toads wallow in them. Then the rebels scatter in the village : the peasants, woken up, grab palm sticks, sickles, wooden ploughshares ; the rebels leap forward, pull away their wooden weapons from the peasants, they push them back towards the public square ; the young rebel with the dog's head, who is carrying the commando's only firearm, threatens the peasants with his automatic pistol ; now and then, he lifts his mask and his face appears smeared with blood, brains ; the rebels smash the doors, plunge in the darkness on the women huddled against the cob, they unbutton themselves and rape and kill at the same time ; often two rebels drive their knives together in some child's lower body, blades grind in the perforated intestine. The young rebel gives his weapon to the commando chief, who, lips foamy, insults the peasants ; the young rebel, still wearing his young dog's head, runs to the plunder ; with his mask, he burrows into the women's open belly, the children's slit throat ; the rebels run, round-shouldered, among houses and streets ; a naked child is screaming on a terrace ; four rebels climb up the house's corners, jump on the terrace ; they seize the child, they lift him up and four times, they throw him in the air and move backwards ; the child falls on the cob, his back, his loins, his nape, his knees, broken, turn blue under the moonlight : a rebel grabs from the drying room a hatchet for grafting fig trees, he brandishes it, the rebels step back, the hatchet slits the throat, slashes the chest, the belly and the knees ; the penis, cut off, sticks to the hatchet, the rebel rubs it against the bend of his knee, the penis stays hanging there, the rebel shakes his leg, he insults the child, he angrily tramples the head, it comes apart from the neck, the rebel chops the neck's vessels and muscles and nerves, with the hatchet, he grabs the head by its hair, he thrusts his fist in the wound, the rebels let themselves fall along the walls, they join the other ones assembled on the public square ; all are trembling, their hands hold scraps of fabric, tufts of hair are stuck by blood on their throat, their hands clutch broken toys, wooden spoons ; the chief orders the peasants to run to the far end of the village ; with his commandos, he pushes them in an alley, he packs them in the village slaughterhouse ; the two latticed windows and the barred door look on to the precipice ; the chief has the door smashed by two young rebels with throats decorated by stolen coral necklaces ; he leans his back against the dividing wall ; a scared old man's urine runs in the gutter smeared with dry blood which divides the centre of the room, gently sloping towards the smashed door ; the chief points at a young peasant whose tight headband holds a few thorny flowers, the two commandos grab him by the hair and push him in front of the chief whose arms are copper coloured by blood ; the chief hits the young peasant's throat with his fist, he takes his cock in the same fist and strokes it with the butt of his automatic pistol ; then, leaving the weapon pressed on the cock, he tilts the barrel towards the peasant's throat, pulls the trigger, the bullet smashes the jaw, the teeth, shattered run on the chief's wrist, the two commandos support the young peasant by the shoulders, the chief kicks the peasant's loins, the commandos hurl him down the ravine, the body bounces in the darkness, the belly and thighs one moment uncovered --- the tatters are hovering around the body --- cast a glimmer of rainy dawn. Thus, the slaughterhouse's mallet smashing their nape or penis, the peasants are all hurled down, except a frightened old man sitting in his urine, they pull him up by force and hang him by the throat to the portico's shaken meat hook ; the young rebel with the dog's head pulls crates of sodas and sacks of semolina out of the grocery ; while all, sprawled on the public square, drink and eat the grain, head in the sack, a few injured women and children, come crawling out of the houses, drag themselves along the walls, marking the cob with long red trails, often vertical, the two rebels decorated with earrings and necklaces, jump up, throw themselves on the women, bear on their smashed or maimed limbs ; then, when the wind freezes their sweat, they get up again, the front of the body covered with shreds of dress stuck to their clothes by blood ; the little children who flee covering their wounds with both hands, they nail them to the blacksmith's wall with the points of blue steel, facing the orient. A few vultures, chased from the slaughter bathing the rock and the onyx slabs, fly up the ravine and, clinging to the cob, tear the crucified bodies ; they soar over the terrace and dive in the streets ; the flapping of their wings hits the back of the squatting rebels, mouth smeared with soda and semolina ; a vulture soars above the dog's head rebel asleep on a punctured sack, it wheels, it comes down ; the rebel yawns, the vulture rises again and drops its shit in the young rebel's open mouth. The tumult of the slaughter awakens the officer at the Tletz post, he goes down to the empty courtyard : the soldiers have locked up the prisoners in the pigsty, the one they impaled is writhing on the manure, he spits a blue foam on the wrists of his comrades holding him in their arms. In B\`{a}li, the groaning has ceased, the rebels, sprawled, rise to their feet again. Dawn appears in the torrent, the vultures fly away from the reeds and the rocks, -some of them hold in their beak a quarter of flesh crossed by a leather strap or by lace from some cloth. Dew sparkles on the ransacked tents, vultures tear the collapsed canvas, uncover the bodies caught in the sand, a stake piercing the belly. The officer tramples the smashed bottles, he walks up again inside the post, climbs the hatch of the watchtower, the sentry shivers, sleepy, his forehead covered with dew, the corner of his lips smeared with sweet coffee ; the officer, moving his chest close to the soldier's, drops a quick kiss on the trace of coffee, their eyebrows touch, the officer places his hand on the soldier's cock, and the soldier, his on the officer's thigh : \speech{The wind is blowing blood, lieutenant.} The officer pushes, gently knocks down the soldier on the protection sheet, pressing the boy's loins against the top of the steel sheet, with his hips and his hand supports the nape tilted in the searchlight's beam ; then appear on the soldier's shadowless face, the razor's gashes, the dried salivas and snots, the stings and the excremental and seminal deposits from mosquitoes, the small curls pulled off from the hair of his hardened cock by the soldier and laid, rolled around his fingers on the sweaty cheeks ; the officer kisses the cuts, blows the curls towards the soldier's nostrils, his tongue pierces the carapace of snot at the opening of the nostrils and searches them ; the soldier's cock hardens against his hip and his against the soldier's hip ; the machine gun, abandoned, swings in the wind~: --- At one o'clock, during the third guard, vultures filled the valley, their smell bathed the fragrance of the sea. Lieutenant, we are rotten corpses, I got scared, my skin is rotten, they soared for a while along the searchlight's beam, I poured a flask of eau de Cologne on my forehead. They flew away. --- When you'll be free, hold back from eating too many pastries. ---- My wife says : \said{Cover my whole body with sperm and our child will be more beautiful.} +--- My wife says : \speech{Cover my whole body with sperm and our child will be more beautiful.} --- I allow you to cut out my battledress again\ldots @@ -1658,13 +1663,13 @@ In the morning, the head : veins, lips, eyes, nostrils, hair, set ablaze by the Until noon, Crazy Horse, his warmed back travelled over by locusts, worms attacking his half-opened mouth, sleeps under the violet sky. -In the evening, leaning against a pomegranate tree, he munches the fruits, his hams strained by the fangs of invisible dogs ; between the rocks of Tifrit, he slows down only to sh\ldots, without undressing or squatting : turds run down his legs, harden on the folds of his socks and on the laces of his army shoes. The branches weighed down by floorcloths point to a village where Crazy Horse, vomiting, has stolen alarm clocks, soap, jewels. The maggots under the moon, scintillate in the blood of his wound ; he watches them, leaning against a trunk, the floorcloths beating the nape of his neck. Inside the butcher's shop, the portraits --- taken down during daytime --- of B\'{e}ja and the other rebel chiefs are hanging far from the course of blood : Crazy Horse, bending over the stall, holds out his entire arm ; the butcher chops at the armpit, Crazy Horse winces, he grinds his teeth against the bloody wood. +In the evening, leaning against a pomegranate tree, he munches the fruits, his hams strained by the fangs of invisible dogs ; between the rocks of Tifrit, he slows down only to sh\ldots, without undressing or squatting : turds run down his legs, harden on the folds of his socks and on the laces of his army shoes. The branches weighed down by floorcloths point to a village where Crazy Horse, vomiting, has stolen alarm clocks, soap, jewels. The maggots under the moon, scintillate in the blood of his wound ; he watches them, leaning against a trunk, the floorcloths beating the nape of his neck. Inside the butcher's shop, the portraits --- taken down during daytime --- of B\'eja and the other rebel chiefs are hanging far from the course of blood : Crazy Horse, bending over the stall, holds out his entire arm ; the butcher chops at the armpit, Crazy Horse winces, he grinds his teeth against the bloody wood. The midnight breeze softens the wound ; Crazy Horse, his cut-off arm thrust under his shirt, climbs the rocks : the arm's blood runs down his belly, wraps his cock ; he lies down over the slabs, his head leaning on the base of the orientation table ; a band of jackals following the trail of his blood since the village, encircles the mountain summit; Crazy Horse buttons the shirt over his arm, the hand, cold, covers his belly. Crazy Horse's head rolls on his shoulder ; milk runs under the slabs, under the stones, gushes from the end of the broken stems, flushes at the bottom of the violet sky ; Crazy Horse's lips open up, kiss the crystals, the stars, the jackals' icy eyes ; the arm comes out of the shirt ; the battledress tears at the leg, the tear creases as far as the knee ; the jackal's tongue licks and warms up the kneecap. The moon is resting on the orientation table. -\chapter{Third Chant} +\chapter{Third Song} The slaughters, the blood from the rapes, the ashes of the burnings, nourish the earth. The governor is dreaming about his assassination. The military whom he disappointed, take to the maquis, the regular troops are resting, rebels from both camps butcher each other way up in the mountains. @@ -1694,9 +1699,9 @@ At dawn a jeep drives by with a trailer, among the eucalypti, stops in front of The soldiers tip the casks. The turds splash in the white water, casting a shadow on the water moving down upon the children, shrouding them and soiling their shoulders ; they swim towards the bank, suffocating, vomiting in the tepid water. They come out of the water and crawl on the sand like rats. The soldiers raise the casks with chains. At camp, they put them back in place under the cesspools, their shoes sticking to the black slush swarming with worms ; inebriated for a moment, there they are now standing in the sun, dazzled, back broken, they wipe their hands on their hips, the battledress cloth, burning, gets crumpled with a sharp noise, then they walk heavily towards the tents ; in front of them are the tables covered with pieces of black meat, dribble, beer head ; the soldiers, with a weary hand, take some bits, eat them, rubbing their hands, slip under the tents, collapse on their straw mattresses, on their back, legs spread apart, their glistening hands sunken behind the belt, of which the point gleams like a dart, in the shadows of the fire, in the steam of the sun and in the vibration of the bodies. -Inside the cellar, the drowsy women, move an arm, a foot ; the coal dust, mixed with sperm, sweat and dried slaver, runs down the indifferent and icy skin, in the rays of light ; the young boy, standing, one leg folded against the wali, is smoking, motionless, hand on his belt. +Inside the cellar, the drowsy women, move an arm, a foot ; the coal dust, mixed with sperm, sweat and dried slaver, runs down the indifferent and icy skin, in the rays of light ; the young boy, standing, one leg folded against the wale, is smoking, motionless, hand on his belt. -In the underwood, over the tents, an insect's slow and obstinate flying, sets off amongst the charred foliage the flowing and fall of sand and ashes. +In the underfoot, over the tents, an insect's slow and obstinate flying, sets off amongst the charred foliage the flowing and fall of sand and ashes. The young boy claps his hands, the women awaken, get up, crowd in front of the door, follow the boy. He opens a door, the women scream, rush on the shower's planks, take position under the jet ; in a corner, a sailor, tall, fair, entirely naked, is asleep on the moist planks, coiled up, his hip and his shoulder stained with mud, his cock soft upon his thigh ; his uniform folded under his nape ; his soaked shoes against his back. @@ -1782,9 +1787,9 @@ And he remembers the dress and the hips caught inside the tight and severe cloth --- I shall go alone. -He sets foot inside the sun, he moves forward, the sun rises along his legs, his hips, his chest, up to his skull ; in the upper part of town, muffled brass bands ; in the lower part, smokes, cries of children and dogs. The cardinal walks up towards the cathedral : it appears, all white, bougainvillea red, black with the sun. The cardinai drags himself up the steps, leans on the porch, passes along the nave, his hand scraping the stone, hurts itself with the glittering potsherds, mutters childish words, prays aloud, pushes the sacristy door : an old man, with wild eyes, a running nose, welcomes him in his arms~: +He sets foot inside the sun, he moves forward, the sun rises along his legs, his hips, his chest, up to his skull ; in the upper part of town, muffled brass bands ; in the lower part, smokes, cries of children and dogs. The cardinal walks up towards the cathedral : it appears, all white, bougainvillea red, black with the sun. The cardinal drags himself up the steps, leans on the porch, passes along the nave, his hand scraping the stone, hurts itself with the glittering potsherds, mutters childish words, prays aloud, pushes the sacristy door : an old man, with wild eyes, a running nose, welcomes him in his arms~: ---- Your Eminence, all alone, all alone ! a result of God's grace. A result of God's grace. +--- Your Eminence, all alone, all alone~! a result of God's grace. A result of God's grace. --- Fill the cruets, instead of stifling me. @@ -1796,7 +1801,7 @@ In the doorway, the jumble of flowers, branches, vibrating insects, the shadow o And the cardinal bends down, out of breath, over the sideboard covered with linen. Three times, the chapel becomes filled by soldiers and settlers in light clothes. The cardinal, dressed up, heavy, shoulders drooping, passes into the large sacristy. There, are getting dressed noisily, the deacons and subdeacons. All bow down. Their gestures, when among themselves, are like women's~: ---- Oh, the sister ironed your surplice so well ; better than mine, I don't know why, she must have a grudge against me. Oh, that immaculate white over your tanned neck. How were things at the big dam ? Did you play the tracking games ? The children behaved well ? I hear you had handsome soldiers to protect you. +--- Oh, the sister ironed your surplice so well ; better than mine, I don't know why, she must have a grudge against me. Oh, that immaculate white over your tanned neck. How were things at the big dam~? Did you play the tracking games~? The children behaved well~? I hear you had handsome soldiers to protect you. The procession takes shape, it stops before entering the nave. The organ trembles. The little castrati, on the right of the altar, hold their breath. The procession moves towards the altar. Gloria in excelsis Deo. The little castrato with the rose, is singing, his eyes fill with tears, the cardinal bends his head, and turns it, lightly, over the ciborium ; he sees the child's legs, his quivering throat, the slaver shining at the corner of the lips. The child, his clothes are trembling, sings alone through the silence. And the bird flies out of the confessional ; shoots forward between the whitewashed walls, bumps into the pink columns, the statues ; the flutter of its wings flattens the flames of the candles, on the altar ; the child remains motionless ; the cardinal bends his head\ldots\ with the scent of wine rising from the small table, blends all of a sudden a smell of feather, of nest and of blood. The cardinal looks down, between the child's thighs, a stain blackens the cloth of the shorts, grows larger : a trickle of blood runs down the leg, to the knee. The bird passes over the child, brushes his hair, turns around his hips, drawn by the blood. The child sings louder, blood runs more violently. Then the choir intertwines and the child falls down in a faint, leg streaming. The black young man makes a rush, takes the child in his arms and carries him to the sacristy, lays him on a bench in front of the garden door, he comes back to the nave's door, closes it, looks through the keyhole, goes back to the child, bends over him, places his hand on the child's shoulder, drives it under the armpit, in the sweat, brings it back to the chest, he bends over, sets his lips on the child's cheek, on his lips and the hand crawls over the chilled belly, on the canvas soaked by blood. The young man stands up straight again, stares at his hand, moves towards the door, goes down into the garden, crouches, buries his moist hand in the sand, comes back to the sacristy, puts his hand in the washbasin, opens the tap ; the child comes back to life, his knees are trembling, the dried blood falls in a powder on the bench. In the doorway one can see a dog pass, whiter than the garden. @@ -1806,9 +1811,9 @@ Thus, Kment, one night --- in Iguider valley, rebels and soldiers fight with the Kment strikes the man's face with the scythe, blood spurts, shades the face gradually, like a net. Kment throws the scythe, flees, rolls on the path, hands to his belly. On the plane's cabin the burning cases chink, they sizzle on the steam. Birds cry in the black peaks, excited, panic-stricken by the battle ; the plane nosedives, machine-guns, flies up again into the night, brushes the trees, dives towards the cliff, machine-gunned soldiers and rebels fall on the pebbles, along the river. Kment crawls on the sand ; the plane passes over him, long vibrating stone, Kment enters the sand, half-buries himself, like a crab and, the plane vanishing, the stone extinguished in the night, he brings back the sand against his cheek like a face, by the neck. Soldiers and rebels leaning over the pebbles, tremble, rattle, blood withdraws from their lips : fish jump in the rapids, insects, coiled around a couple of reeds, loosen the grip of their legs, and, belly covered with grub, escape in the warm night, the loosened reeds vibrate ; in the marshy water, bullets and dead toads roll, smeared with rust. There descends the ultimate, bloody, pink saliva of the dying soldiers. The plane comes back, nosedives, machine-guns again, bullets jump, patter on the pebbles, reap the reeds. The gunner's hands are black, he vomits suddenly on the butt of the machine-gun, lets his forehead, his temples lean against the fuming metal, he shivers, closes with gluey fingers the collar of his battledress. The pilot looks back : on his mica spectacles, leather and copper-rimmed, a crust made by the bodies of hacked insects, a crust already dried, from which stick out, here and there, trembling, a leg, a feeler, a wing~: ---- Machine-gun them, machine-gun them ! For Christ's sake, aim a bit better~! +--- Machine-gun them, machine-gun them~! For Christ's sake, aim a bit better~! ---- Lieutenant, lieutenant, I'm sick, I'm dying, my fianc\'{e}, I'm dying, I killed them all, they're waiting for me with their knives, the city is closed, a knife is driven into my back, I run, I'm not moving, the walls of the city rise with the snouts of sad insects, the muzzles of the wild beasts, a claw shoots out of earth and grabs my foot, my lieutenant, over my fianc\'{e}, you're taking advantage, it's my turn, I've got pins and needles in my cock, my thirst, my trees, my legs are burning like candles, it hurts, oh how it hurts, lieutenant, get down from the bed, crush them. +--- Lieutenant, lieutenant, I'm sick, I'm dying, my fianc\'ee, I'm dying, I killed them all, they're waiting for me with their knives, the city is closed, a knife is driven into my back, I run, I'm not moving, the walls of the city rise with the snouts of sad insects, the muzzles of the wild beasts, a claw shoots out of earth and grabs my foot, my lieutenant, over my fianc\'ee, you're taking advantage, it's my turn, I've got pins and needles in my cock, my thirst, my trees, my legs are burning like candles, it hurts, oh how it hurts, lieutenant, get down from the bed, crush them. The soldier catches the pilot by the shoulders, grips his neck tightly, the pilot leaves go of the controls, the soldier foaming, vomiting, strangles him with his soiled hands. The plane flies straight towards the cliff, the soldier fires at the cliff, bending over the machine-gun, he gets up all of a sudden, holds out his arms above the wings, the plane comes closer to the riddled cliff. The soldier standing in the cabin, arms raised, face and chest soaked with dribble and vomit, raving mad. An injured soldier, on the pebbles, opens his eyes, sees the plane go into the cliff, like a fish in his hole. @@ -1834,7 +1839,7 @@ Illiten captured, Inamenas breathes with relief. A truce is agreed on, the crowd He speaks, barefaced, throat uncovered, arms folded low on his belly, his voice suddenly tears like a leaf, saturated with heat and water, his foot trembles on the rock : ---- You B\'{e}ja\ldots +--- You B\'eja\ldots --- What's the matter~? @@ -1842,9 +1847,9 @@ He speaks, barefaced, throat uncovered, arms folded low on his belly, his voice In the far end of the cave, a soldier groans, pulls off his bandages, turns over in his bed, pushes with his back, the bed collapses, the soldier rolls over the rock, he screams like a rat, a shrill scream ; a young woman dashes forward, bends over, lifts the soldier by the shoulders, but the soldier, eyes shut, draws her to him, knocks her down over him, hugs her, his body's open wounds stick to the woman's battledress, his livid, almost icy lips, bite the woman's mouth, then break away, frozen : the grip of arms and knees relaxes ; the man's head rolls on the rock, a trickle of pink saliva spurts out at the corner of the lips. The woman gets up, leaning on her wrists ; her bloody, crumpled battledress works loose from the dead man's wounds, throwing red sparks. -B\'{e}ja, alone, at the cave's entrance, standing on a granite slab, looks back inside, sees the dead soldier and the squatting woman, shuts his eyes, throws away the cigarette he was holding in his fingers, wipes his lips with the palm of his hand~: +B\'eja, alone, at the cave's entrance, standing on a granite slab, looks back inside, sees the dead soldier and the squatting woman, shuts his eyes, throws away the cigarette he was holding in his fingers, wipes his lips with the palm of his hand~: ---- Koba dead ? The last one, perhaps. Forty days from now, we'll be in Inamenas. +--- Koba dead~? The last one, perhaps. Forty days from now, we'll be in Inamenas. He lays his hand on the sentry's shoulder, he gazes at the rocks, the wet plain, the fog's silent smokes through the slashed trees, the birds coming up from the sea. @@ -1852,7 +1857,7 @@ He lays his hand on the sentry's shoulder, he gazes at the rocks, the wet plain, He lets his arm lie on the sentry's shoulders~: ---- You see Inamenas on the horizon, the water towers ? That's where the revolution began ; I was with Illiten, we killed the guard, a traitor : he's sitting at his table, under the lamp ; I fly at him, I snatch the pistol from his hands, Illiten attacks the man, knocks the table over, catches the man by the shoulders, I hold the man by his waist, Illiten draws his knife, drives it into the man's shoulder, I feel his belly's muscles contract under my fingers, blood spurts out, runs on my arm, the man screams, tilts abruptly his head backwards, it hits my chin. Illiten pushes him against the glass door, the man collapses in front of the door, among the fragments of glass, I dash forward, I lift him by the shoulders, and push him forward into the arms of Illiten who strikes his knee with the knife, the man stumbles, twisting his leg. We laid him on the floor, Illiten holds him there, I grab the paraffin lamp, Illiten opens the man's mouth with both hands, I tilt the lamp over it, the light shows the red, quivering palate, where saliva spouts up and blood rises between the teeth, in one go I pour flame and burning paraffin oil, the man utters a long scream, groans, weeps, tears run on his charred face, a red smoke comes out of his mouth, his lips crumple, with the gasping breath, like charred paper. The dissipated smoke lays bare the ash-covered palate, at the bottom of which stirs a bit of shrivelled tongue, Illiten gets up again, his hands are trembling, he grabs the lamp and smashes it on the man's face~: +--- You see Inamenas on the horizon, the water towers~? That's where the revolution began ; I was with Illiten, we killed the guard, a traitor : he's sitting at his table, under the lamp ; I fly at him, I snatch the pistol from his hands, Illiten attacks the man, knocks the table over, catches the man by the shoulders, I hold the man by his waist, Illiten draws his knife, drives it into the man's shoulder, I feel his belly's muscles contract under my fingers, blood spurts out, runs on my arm, the man screams, tilts abruptly his head backwards, it hits my chin. Illiten pushes him against the glass door, the man collapses in front of the door, among the fragments of glass, I dash forward, I lift him by the shoulders, and push him forward into the arms of Illiten who strikes his knee with the knife, the man stumbles, twisting his leg. We laid him on the floor, Illiten holds him there, I grab the paraffin lamp, Illiten opens the man's mouth with both hands, I tilt the lamp over it, the light shows the red, quivering palate, where saliva spouts up and blood rises between the teeth, in one go I pour flame and burning paraffin oil, the man utters a long scream, groans, weeps, tears run on his charred face, a red smoke comes out of his mouth, his lips crumple, with the gasping breath, like charred paper. The dissipated smoke lays bare the ash-covered palate, at the bottom of which stirs a bit of shrivelled tongue, Illiten gets up again, his hands are trembling, he grabs the lamp and smashes it on the man's face~: --- He's dead, let's flee. @@ -1862,11 +1867,11 @@ I throw a small badge on the dead man's chest. Illiten drags me outside~: And he embraces me in the frozen night, his bloody hands slide on my belt, move up along my back, as far as the nape. This is my first kill. -The sentry keeps staring up at B\'{e}ja's face, but the young chief jumps on the stones, he picks a tuft of mint, squashes it in his wet hand~: +The sentry keeps staring up at B\'eja's face, but the young chief jumps on the stones, he picks a tuft of mint, squashes it in his wet hand~: --- Illiten is still fighting. -The mist, visible shape of silence, rises as far as the sun ; B\'{e}ja lies on a rock, arms stretched sideways, legs parted, the shadow of a bird veils his face a short moment, B\'{e}ja sees the still head, the hanging claws, the yellow beak above him, the wet eye, out of its orbit, running on the black feathers, the dead belly, the hard throat, the bird glides down wings spread but rigid, its outlines cast a shadow on the sky, B\'{e}ja feels his cock hardening under the sun, a naked, burning woman comes down and settles on him, lays her lips on B\'{e}ja's, his belly, his cock, his knees, B\'{e}ja rolls over her, are you dead ? He leaps to his feet, the woman's skin breaks loose and remains stuck to the boy then becomes fire powder, help, I'm burning, the bird buries his beak in B\'{e}ja's neck, the skinned woman, weeps against him, she hugs him, she drinks the blood spurting from the neck, she sucks it up with her lips of bone and muscles, before dying, B\'{e}ja lays his hand on the women's cunt, which swells under the caress, he pricks his hand on the cactus, he dances with the woman, he feels, against his chest, the woman's open chest, the heart's living flesh throbbing against his battledress button. Towards the elevated square where the tents are pitched, the train moving between the tall wet grass, enters the station, carriages covered with mud and worms, the women passengers, cheeks smeared with mud and worms behind the panes, a scented glove, a black leather glove against her lips, her tears on the glove, sun pierces the metal ceiling and strikes them down in the midst of the musicians, the dog drags its snout over the shoes' gold buckles, over the spears. B\'{e}ja, B\'{e}ja why do you always stink so, as though you slept among the sheep. On the red tiled floor, cockroaches are running. B\'{e}ja could you eat a cockroach, his shoes against my naked feet, my hand on the damp straw wrapping the water pipe, a piece of foliage is swinging in front of the small window, B\'{e}ja could you eat that cockroach, full of them inside the flush, the smell attracts them here, then they move up towards the cool, you can see their trail on the wall, eat, a black monkey climbs up the poplar, a dead cat is floating underneath, in the greenish gleam, I'll give you some money, eat, he makes the coins chink inside his pocket, B\'{e}ja, B\'{e}ja, where are they both again, see I put the money on the window, it's for you, if you eat one, the coins shine on the dusty lime, three coins, a mirror all for myself, I crouch down, B\'{e}ja, B\'{e}ja, madam wants to see you, there is a spider in her room, she's trembling with fear the poor thing, she's calling for you, I lay my hand on the tiled floor, a cockroach runs towards my bare foot, I catch it, I stand up again, the cockroach is moving inside my hand, hard, humid, its legs scratch my skin, I open my mouth, my hand, the cockroach between my fingers is struggling near my lips, Talbot looks back, hand on the mouth, leans over the stoneware throne, I close my teeth on the cockroach, I cut him in two halves, a bitter then sour liquid spills under my tongue, Talbot suddenly vomits hands leaning on the wall, I swallow the two halves of the cockroach, I keep my lips tightly closed, I grab the coins on the window, I climb on the ledge, I slip through the window, I jump into the garden, I run away, the coins melt in my hand, I'm lying in the empty canal, upon the dry cement, the water gate falls on my throat like a cleaver, a heap of small slaughtered birds is fuming, Talbot vomits in the blackberry bushes, B\'{e}ja, B\'{e}ja, a big white feather is placed on my thighs, greenflies are jumping under the quilt, in the plain, the movement, the undulation of palms and harrows, the earth covered with slashed roots, the big bird moves, dives between the rocks, B\'{e}ja moves his leg, opens his eyes, sees the sun, scintillating cobweb, the tip of the rocks, he leaps to his feet, runs towards the sentry and shouts~: +The mist, visible shape of silence, rises as far as the sun ; B\'eja lies on a rock, arms stretched sideways, legs parted, the shadow of a bird veils his face a short moment, B\'eja sees the still head, the hanging claws, the yellow beak above him, the wet eye, out of its orbit, running on the black feathers, the dead belly, the hard throat, the bird glides down wings spread but rigid, its outlines cast a shadow on the sky, B\'eja feels his cock hardening under the sun, a naked, burning woman comes down and settles on him, lays her lips on B\'eja's, his belly, his cock, his knees, B\'eja rolls over her, are you dead~? He leaps to his feet, the woman's skin breaks loose and remains stuck to the boy then becomes fire powder, help, I'm burning, the bird buries his beak in B\'eja's neck, the skinned woman, weeps against him, she hugs him, she drinks the blood spurting from the neck, she sucks it up with her lips of bone and muscles, before dying, B\'eja lays his hand on the women's cunt, which swells under the caress, he pricks his hand on the cactus, he dances with the woman, he feels, against his chest, the woman's open chest, the heart's living flesh throbbing against his battledress button. Towards the elevated square where the tents are pitched, the train moving between the tall wet grass, enters the station, carriages covered with mud and worms, the women passengers, cheeks smeared with mud and worms behind the panes, a scented glove, a black leather glove against her lips, her tears on the glove, sun pierces the metal ceiling and strikes them down in the midst of the musicians, the dog drags its snout over the shoes' gold buckles, over the spears. B\'eja, B\'eja why do you always stink so, as though you slept among the sheep. On the red tiled floor, cockroaches are running. B\'eja could you eat a cockroach, his shoes against my naked feet, my hand on the damp straw wrapping the water pipe, a piece of foliage is swinging in front of the small window, B\'eja could you eat that cockroach, full of them inside the flush, the smell attracts them here, then they move up towards the cool, you can see their trail on the wall, eat, a black monkey climbs up the poplar, a dead cat is floating underneath, in the greenish gleam, I'll give you some money, eat, he makes the coins chink inside his pocket, B\'eja, B\'eja, where are they both again, see I put the money on the window, it's for you, if you eat one, the coins shine on the dusty lime, three coins, a mirror all for myself, I crouch down, B\'eja, B\'eja, madam wants to see you, there is a spider in her room, she's trembling with fear the poor thing, she's calling for you, I lay my hand on the tiled floor, a cockroach runs towards my bare foot, I catch it, I stand up again, the cockroach is moving inside my hand, hard, humid, its legs scratch my skin, I open my mouth, my hand, the cockroach between my fingers is struggling near my lips, Talbot looks back, hand on the mouth, leans over the stoneware throne, I close my teeth on the cockroach, I cut him in two halves, a bitter then sour liquid spills under my tongue, Talbot suddenly vomits hands leaning on the wall, I swallow the two halves of the cockroach, I keep my lips tightly closed, I grab the coins on the window, I climb on the ledge, I slip through the window, I jump into the garden, I run away, the coins melt in my hand, I'm lying in the empty canal, upon the dry cement, the water gate falls on my throat like a cleaver, a heap of small slaughtered birds is fuming, Talbot vomits in the blackberry bushes, B\'eja, B\'eja, a big white feather is placed on my thighs, greenflies are jumping under the quilt, in the plain, the movement, the undulation of palms and harrows, the earth covered with slashed roots, the big bird moves, dives between the rocks, B\'eja moves his leg, opens his eyes, sees the sun, scintillating cobweb, the tip of the rocks, he leaps to his feet, runs towards the sentry and shouts~: --- Kill that bird, kill it, we'll eat it tonight. @@ -1874,7 +1879,7 @@ The mist, visible shape of silence, rises as far as the sun ; B\'{e}ja lies on a The sentry stares at the sky, then at the rocks~: ---- What bird ? to eat it~? +--- What bird~? to eat it~? --- I don't see it any more. Go back inside, get yourself replaced. It's such a scorching sun. @@ -1886,7 +1891,7 @@ The sentry salutes : a small flock of sheep comes out of the cave, the sentry, h --- Because we've become impure. -The sentry pushes the sheep in the cave, towards the far end : those among the wounded who have grown fond of some lambs, go to stroke them, the lambs escape and crowd against their mother's belly ; the soldiers go back to sit on their camp bed ; the sheep are trembling. B\'{e}ja leans over the dead man, kneels against his hip, the woman is crouching in front of the sheep, hands crossed on his bloody battledress. B\'{e}ja waves his hand, two soldiers in arms step forward~: +The sentry pushes the sheep in the cave, towards the far end : those among the wounded who have grown fond of some lambs, go to stroke them, the lambs escape and crowd against their mother's belly ; the soldiers go back to sit on their camp bed ; the sheep are trembling. B\'eja leans over the dead man, kneels against his hip, the woman is crouching in front of the sheep, hands crossed on his bloody battledress. B\'eja waves his hand, two soldiers in arms step forward~: --- Take Koba and carry him to the little cemetery. Be careful, the slope is slippery because of the mist. @@ -1896,7 +1901,7 @@ The two soldiers lift Koba, the blood that was drying in the folds of the battle --- Leave it with him. -B\'{e}ja, in daytime, never touches the woman ; at night only he crawls towards the straw mattress where she sleeps, legs open, face on fire ; she feels the cartridge belts and the dagger's scabbard roll on her hip, B\'{e}ja's burning breath on her uncovered chest, hands smeared with mud and rifle grease grip her hair on the temple, the long lithe and heavy body move up like an animal shadow on her body and cover it ; she sees through the cliff holes the starlit sky where stars flow from one to another, far above the sea, she listens to the fall of birds and stones along the cliff, to the distant noise of wet sand crumbling beneath the beach, into the puddles where little solitary fish get caught. The sheep start moving when her knee scrapes the rock between the woman's thighs, he has pulled her from the mattress, their salivas mingle and scintillate ; for a moment the cold of the buttons on her cunt, then the warmth and the nails of the soldier in her shoulders ; a look towards the cave's entrance ; the soldier comes and goes under the moon, the battledress cloth stretched on the hip between the thighs with sharp pleats. +B\'eja, in daytime, never touches the woman ; at night only he crawls towards the straw mattress where she sleeps, legs open, face on fire ; she feels the cartridge belts and the dagger's scabbard roll on her hip, B\'eja's burning breath on her uncovered chest, hands smeared with mud and rifle grease grip her hair on the temple, the long lithe and heavy body move up like an animal shadow on her body and cover it ; she sees through the cliff holes the starlit sky where stars flow from one to another, far above the sea, she listens to the fall of birds and stones along the cliff, to the distant noise of wet sand crumbling beneath the beach, into the puddles where little solitary fish get caught. The sheep start moving when her knee scrapes the rock between the woman's thighs, he has pulled her from the mattress, their salivas mingle and scintillate ; for a moment the cold of the buttons on her cunt, then the warmth and the nails of the soldier in her shoulders ; a look towards the cave's entrance ; the soldier comes and goes under the moon, the battledress cloth stretched on the hip between the thighs with sharp pleats. In the middle of the night, the delegates come out of the cave, descend towards the plain. Soldiers rebels against the State are awaiting them in the Thilissi gorge. Commanded by a captain, young, scarred face and throat, they are crouching behind a broom hedge, on the side of the road. Most of them are born in Inamenas, sons of settlers ; silent, they see, through the hard and sharp-pointed brooms, the rebels approaching without a noise, leaping, wearing blue and black espadrilles, on the soiled sand ; they see the knives beating on the hips, they squeeze the rifle butt under their armpit, their hands are shaking on the black magazine, the throat throbs, covered with cobwebs ; small mosquitoes slip on the chest, bump into the lips, get between the skin and the chin strap under the chin and on the cheeks, between the forehead and the helmet, get caught in the sweat at the root of the hair and inside the ear, vibrate in front of the eye, under the eyebrows ; little columns of smoke rise from the sand, like breaths of air ; the soldiers keep quiet, lying, a large streak of sweat in the back : through the black stems, from which eggs' ash and powder flow, the rapids where water leaps, white and shiny and the foam under the banks ; the feverish backward and forward motion of mosquitoes between the water and the brooms, above the road, casts shadows on sand and pebbles, the brooms' lit up tops are scintillating. @@ -1910,7 +1915,7 @@ All around, the jackals, whining, devour, mouth deep between the soldiers' thigh High in the mountains, weapon in hand, the rebels listen : the gunfire, the fight hand to hand, the jackals\ldots -Already, three helicopters, coming from Inamenas, roar above the gorges, they come down, they land on the sand, soldiers, doubled up, shoot out of the cabin, jump, cans and hand-grenades clash, shine at their waist, some of them rub their eyes, yawn, stretch out their arms, the raised battledress jacket lays bare the bottom of the chest, the navel and the top of the hip, the fold of the skin between the belt and the trousers' loop ; the propellers, slowing down, blow sand and grass, the water ripples, the propellers' shadow sweeps as far as the cliff's grey marble, on the opposite bank, veiling the angles and the debris, waking up the birds in the nests and making them start and chirp a bit : shoot out of the holes as if under the bombs. The soldiers are squatting next to the bodies, they remove their own from those of the rebels, carry them inside the cabin, assemble the pieces of each dead soldier in tent canvas, open the mouths, hold them open while making them bite their metal plates where the regimental number is written. Some look away and vomit in the brooms ; arms full of those bloody bundles, they run under the wind of the propellers, feet striking pebbles and dried shit, arms bare, tattooed with skulls or naked women, breath stinking of beer and paté, cursing, grumbling, rubbing the bottom of their back and belly~: +Already, three helicopters, coming from Inamenas, roar above the gorges, they come down, they land on the sand, soldiers, doubled up, shoot out of the cabin, jump, cans and hand-grenades clash, shine at their waist, some of them rub their eyes, yawn, stretch out their arms, the raised battledress jacket lays bare the bottom of the chest, the navel and the top of the hip, the fold of the skin between the belt and the trousers' loop ; the propellers, slowing down, blow sand and grass, the water ripples, the propellers' shadow sweeps as far as the cliff's grey marble, on the opposite bank, veiling the angles and the debris, waking up the birds in the nests and making them start and chirp a bit : shoot out of the holes as if under the bombs. The soldiers are squatting next to the bodies, they remove their own from those of the rebels, carry them inside the cabin, assemble the pieces of each dead soldier in tent canvas, open the mouths, hold them open while making them bite their metal plates where the regimental number is written. Some look away and vomit in the brooms ; arms full of those bloody bundles, they run under the wind of the propellers, feet striking pebbles and dried shit, arms bare, tattooed with skulls or naked women, breath stinking of beer and pat\'e, cursing, grumbling, rubbing the bottom of their back and belly~: --- Those bloody worms that eat you behind, those crabs that eat you in front. @@ -1924,21 +1929,21 @@ All climb back into the helicopters. Nape rested on the cabin's vibrating sheet of steel, the squatting soldiers dream, shiver, hands to their knees, sweat running down thighs and chest, hair caught in the helmet rim\ldots -Palms rise, walk with the wind, rain comes, the hurricane tears away the red grass, a tomb guarded by two sleeping soldiers, standing, against the stone. I disarm them, they open their eyes, smile, let me bind them, the stone scintillates, the trunks jump, down the mountain's muddy slope ; on the watercress, at the bottom of the valley, the clanking of wild horses, the stamping of wolves on the dry hay rustling with shards and feelers, I bend over the soldiers' eyes ; in the palace of gilded wood, women make the beds, the sheets swell, flow, flap over the gilded wood, pigs stir among the barrels at the end of the yard, small birds flutter around, the sun vibrates in the blue, the prisoners howl, lying on the slush of cock droppings, a child, iron-armoured, tightly wrapped in leather, pricks them with a stick, they then become silent, hold out their arms, open their hands, frogs jump out of them, their song dies on the slush ; the prisoners' feet are fettered in iron arcs, driven in the ground ; by dusk, the caparisoned child falls in dust over them, evening shadow, shadow of death, mass of ashes ; then they feel his kiss on their lips ; the river carries pieces of red bark, squalling monkeys ; on the big paddle- boat, old blue, rusty irons, oil puddles, the seller of cloth and of slaves ; sitting behind a desk, one soldier cutting the cloth, another cutting the slaves' arm, hand, tongue, a third one wrapping each limb in a piece of cloth and throwing the shreds of bloody flesh to the fish running up the yellow waters ; he writes, counts and weighs ; the bundles are laid in heaps at the bottom of the boat near the helm, blood spatters the ropes ; trees rustle along the river, wild animals rise, heavy under the leaves and slide towards the water, the cliffs of ochre and black clay, crumble in the water turning blue under the sun ; silence : nothing but the the march of heavy animals on the mud marked by hooves, claws, tails, wings, fangs. +Palms rise, walk with the wind, rain comes, the hurricane tears away the red grass, a tomb guarded by two sleeping soldiers, standing, against the stone. I disarm them, they open their eyes, smile, let me bind them, the stone scintillates, the trunks jump, down the mountain's muddy slope ; on the watercress, at the bottom of the valley, the clanking of wild horses, the stamping of wolves on the dry hay rustling with shards and feelers, I bend over the soldiers' eyes ; in the palace of gilded wood, women make the beds, the sheets swell, flow, flap over the gilded wood, pigs stir among the barrels at the end of the yard, small birds flutter around, the sun vibrates in the blue, the prisoners howl, lying on the slush of cock droppings, a child, iron-armoured, tightly wrapped in leather, pricks them with a stick, they then become silent, hold out their arms, open their hands, frogs jump out of them, their song dies on the slush ; the prisoners' feet are fettered in iron arcs, driven in the ground ; by dusk, the caparisoned child falls in dust over them, evening shadow, shadow of death, mass of ashes ; then they feel his kiss on their lips ; the river carries pieces of red bark, squalling monkeys ; on the big paddle-boat, old blue, rusty irons, oil puddles, the seller of cloth and of slaves ; sitting behind a desk, one soldier cutting the cloth, another cutting the slaves' arm, hand, tongue, a third one wrapping each limb in a piece of cloth and throwing the shreds of bloody flesh to the fish running up the yellow waters ; he writes, counts and weighs ; the bundles are laid in heaps at the bottom of the boat near the helm, blood spatters the ropes ; trees rustle along the river, wild animals rise, heavy under the leaves and slide towards the water, the cliffs of ochre and black clay, crumble in the water turning blue under the sun ; silence : nothing but the the march of heavy animals on the mud marked by hooves, claws, tails, wings, fangs. The child, standing on the cloth, naked, laughing, both feet against his father's and mother's hip, the servant woman, sleeping with her cheek resting on the top of his arm ; the father cracks his hip joints, and the child pisses right on his forehead, the wet sheet shines in the rays of light, two white horses pass in front of the window, in the wind. -B\'{e}ja screams at the bottom of the valley, around him, his children's bones ; the wind lifts the ashes, a shining, horned, green insect, along the rock ; B\'{e}ja weeps, far away, beyond the valley the sea-like undulation of the grass under the white villas, the white paths littered with maimed lizards, trampled by children's and tennis players' espadrilles ; grunting of pigs inside the barrels ; blue flows between the islands, the continents draw nearer, the gods mingle their sacred saliva ; a frog, smeared with ash, jumps on the bones. B\'{e}ja sits on a bronze chair, the bones chink under his neck, two young slaves wearing coarse cloth push the prisoner at his feet, he looks away from this scoundrel, smeared with shit, nostril pierced by a cock's beak~: +B\'eja screams at the bottom of the valley, around him, his children's bones ; the wind lifts the ashes, a shining, horned, green insect, along the rock ; B\'eja weeps, far away, beyond the valley the sea-like undulation of the grass under the white villas, the white paths littered with maimed lizards, trampled by children's and tennis players' espadrilles ; grunting of pigs inside the barrels ; blue flows between the islands, the continents draw nearer, the gods mingle their sacred saliva ; a frog, smeared with ash, jumps on the bones. B\'eja sits on a bronze chair, the bones chink under his neck, two young slaves wearing coarse cloth push the prisoner at his feet, he looks away from this scoundrel, smeared with shit, nostril pierced by a cock's beak~: --- Go and take the weapons from in front of the tomb, kill the two soldiers, then come back here, and kill this prisoner and throw the bodies in the river after the boat has passed. -The two young slaves, cloth fuming under the sun, scamper through the garden, between the tall white flowers and the flesh-eating plants ; behind the rows of flowers, the pigs grunt, intoxicated by the wine drying at the bottom of the barrels ; above, the flags float in the sea breeze, salt erodes the posts and the piles. The two soldiers, killed ; the rifles burning in the trembling, wet hands ; the prisoner jumps, hands to his belly, his skull cracks on the marble. The young slaves, bare arms, bare feet, lick in front of king B\'{e}ja the salt on their lips ; the three corpses scintillate in the ship's furrow ; a young slave is tied to the paddle- wheel ; at every turn, he plunges in the water, suffocates, slobbers ; at the stern, next to the helm, the heap of bundles fume in the dust bound for decay. The tomb empty, on the sand run the little flies of death ; from the walls, hang lichens, heavy with chrysalides. +The two young slaves, cloth fuming under the sun, scamper through the garden, between the tall white flowers and the flesh-eating plants ; behind the rows of flowers, the pigs grunt, intoxicated by the wine drying at the bottom of the barrels ; above, the flags float in the sea breeze, salt erodes the posts and the piles. The two soldiers, killed ; the rifles burning in the trembling, wet hands ; the prisoner jumps, hands to his belly, his skull cracks on the marble. The young slaves, bare arms, bare feet, lick in front of king B\'eja the salt on their lips ; the three corpses scintillate in the ship's furrow ; a young slave is tied to the paddle-wheel ; at every turn, he plunges in the water, suffocates, slobbers ; at the stern, next to the helm, the heap of bundles fume in the dust bound for decay. The tomb empty, on the sand run the little flies of death ; from the walls, hang lichens, heavy with chrysalides. -As night was falling, B\'{e}ja, the king, took fright, he raised his hand and said to all surrounding him, little slaves, soldiers and women : +As night was falling, B\'eja, the king, took fright, he raised his hand and said to all surrounding him, little slaves, soldiers and women : --- Touch me, all of you touch me so that my death be not a lonely one. Once dead, they opened his mouth, filled it with fresh wood chips, his feet were cut off and given immediately to a young slave the king had mutilated for strangling the princes his children, by order of the cloth seller. -The armour-clad child pushes the women away and climbs on the bed, for a moment his hand strokes the gilded wood of the pillars, then he brings the sheet back upon his armour's iron and falls asleep. The fire takes under the jerricans of petrol, shrouds the pile of cans, the jeeps drive slowly among the slashed cacti, a large red butterfly trembles on the starter, the radio antenna whips the blue sky. I can't move my lips, lick the salt on my lips, touch my chest, a mirror, it's forbidden. Reach Leptis Magna before night, sentenced to death, far from one's mother, from one's village, one's body to be cut into pieces, eaten, a woman make love with a piece of meat then eat it without laying her hands on it, eating the flies and the maggots with it, one's body, though dead, to be desired, devoured, used. Leave my arm. Alive, they cut me into pieces, they slice my thigh and carry it away ; every morning they open my prison, my cellar, they step forward holding knives and pincers, I'm a tiny quivering and obedient animal, on the bloodstained straw. Their breath on my grazed arm, they sing over their knives\ldots\ We must walk behind a cursed fence, on the cement platform above the canal. +The armour-clad child pushes the women away and climbs on the bed, for a moment his hand strokes the gilded wood of the pillars, then he brings the sheet back upon his armour's iron and falls asleep. The fire takes under the jerrycans of petrol, shrouds the pile of cans, the jeeps drive slowly among the slashed cacti, a large red butterfly trembles on the starter, the radio antenna whips the blue sky. I can't move my lips, lick the salt on my lips, touch my chest, a mirror, it's forbidden. Reach Leptis Magna before night, sentenced to death, far from one's mother, from one's village, one's body to be cut into pieces, eaten, a woman make love with a piece of meat then eat it without laying her hands on it, eating the flies and the maggots with it, one's body, though dead, to be desired, devoured, used. Leave my arm. Alive, they cut me into pieces, they slice my thigh and carry it away ; every morning they open my prison, my cellar, they step forward holding knives and pincers, I'm a tiny quivering and obedient animal, on the bloodstained straw. Their breath on my grazed arm, they sing over their knives\ldots\ We must walk behind a cursed fence, on the cement platform above the canal. --- If you refuse, a guerrilla will hunt you until your death ; everywhere a black mark. From now on, nothing but fear reigns in this world : up there we've already destroyed a hundred villages, ransacked the harvests, we've eaten green fruits ; by my side, a young guerrilla writhes, hands on his belly : I laugh, I'm struck. @@ -1978,7 +1983,7 @@ In the compartment, face to face, shivering by the window pane spattered with th --- I've known women, over there. One word, and after crossing the seas they strangle you in your sleep and the struggle is seen on the blue wall of the childhood room. ---- As for myself, I fought. You believed me king ; I wasn't any more, my job was to mount guard, there is a ring under my foot. A soldier loves me, I want none of it, his lips and hands are swelled with blood. I loved a seagull which had sheltered me ; at dawn, it said : \said{I am your mother} and died. Three days, three nights I rolled beside its decayed body, head buried in the sand. The third day I saw, at the centre of the earth, the river of tears ; tall thin boatmen tried with gaffs and oars to divert it from the god. Love me, love me. See those bundles of flesh and blood inside the luggage rack, please love me, please love. +--- As for myself, I fought. You believed me king ; I wasn't any more, my job was to mount guard, there is a ring under my foot. A soldier loves me, I want none of it, his lips and hands are swelled with blood. I loved a seagull which had sheltered me ; at dawn, it said : \speech{I am your mother} and died. Three days, three nights I rolled beside its decayed body, head buried in the sand. The third day I saw, at the centre of the earth, the river of tears ; tall thin boatmen tried with gaffs and oars to divert it from the god. Love me, love me. See those bundles of flesh and blood inside the luggage rack, please love me, please love. A strong hand catches the bundles, opens the window, and throws them on the rails. My foot is caught in the ring\ldots @@ -1988,7 +1993,7 @@ The sentry's shoe is resting on the spring, the water's coolness makes the soldi The captain passes a hand on his forehead, wrings his cap with both his hands, puts it back on his head ; in the bathroom, three soldiers, the platoon deputy standing, the reb sitting head against the bathtub, feet and hand bound, mouth bloody, face black, flies stuck to the scabs on his lips, marks of shoe soles on his bare chest. The captain questions the silent reb, throws his cap on the tiled floor, stretches his arms, starts to take off his battledress jacket, unbuttons his shirt ; at once, a caress, a warm quivering on the hair of his chest ; the bird shoots out, chirps, dashes through the misted up room, bumps into the pipes, the taps ; the captain leans out of the window ; the bird settles for a second on the prisoner's skull, its feathers are warm, its claws scratch, lightly, the swollen skin, its heart throbs against a throbbing vein of the prisoner. The captain plunges his head in the Virginia creeper, the platoon deputy stands behind, the officer waves his hand, the deputy steps forward, leans his elbow against the window sill. Under the leaves, the lilacs are heavy with beetles hanging to the flowers and bathing in the moonlight~: ---- Did you distribute flour to the peasants ? Your men's behaviour during the operation\ldots? +--- Did you distribute flour to the peasants~? Your men's behaviour during the operation\ldots? --- A good, respectful one, captain, some took the children on their knees. Eber Lobato didn't touch the girls. @@ -2006,7 +2011,7 @@ the back and the knees, the cunt, for a while, rests against the bathtub edge\ld The reb looks up~: ---- What's your name ? you're still a child\ldots\ Show yourself a bit. +--- What's your name~? you're still a child\ldots\ Show yourself a bit. The reb child tilts his head on the shoulder, his mouth is shut, his eyes closed and his long black lashes cast a shadow on the top of his cheeks. The captain throws his pistol to the end of the room and sits on the stool then, bending over the child, he cuts the bonds of the wrists, throws the knife in the bathtub ; the child opens his eyes, looks down at once, lets his arms fall on his hips, tries to get up but falls on his knees again. The captain squats down, unties the bonds around the reb child's feet ; his shoulder brushes the little reb's muddy tatters, he stands up again, he walks to the window~: @@ -2022,7 +2027,7 @@ The child clutches the bathtub edge with his fingers~: --- I'll remain silent. I am silent. Flay me, my veins are silent. ---- Once I've been, when I was your age, tortured : snow weighs on the barrack's corrugated iron ; for three years I had a number on my arm next to the scars left by the dogs' fangs. Hanging in the shower, my body was spinning in the steam ; outside the snow was crumbling among barbed wire and watchtowers ; Spring was coming. Two thousand children were marching, dying in that cesspool. In the evening, I'd lie on the operating table, docile like a little animal in the heat ; we all loved the sunset, the mask of sleep, the little death, far from snow, cold, mud, dogs ; there was a night light above the table. When I awoke, a stale and intoxicating scent of flowers : blood choked me ; jingling in the room next door, voices, clanking, small wheels on the tiled floor ; I pick up my tatters, a woman shrouded in soapy white squeals leaning against the door, she has blood on her hands, her eye is dead ; under the night light, letter scales swinging : two small balls of flesh shine in the steel scales ; I look at them, the hand slaps my face, there is a jewelled ring on the hand, it scratches my cheek, I walk towards the door, I set my bare foot on the snow, wind seizes my body : \said{They've taken something from inside me.} +--- Once I've been, when I was your age, tortured : snow weighs on the barrack's corrugated iron ; for three years I had a number on my arm next to the scars left by the dogs' fangs. Hanging in the shower, my body was spinning in the steam ; outside the snow was crumbling among barbed wire and watchtowers ; Spring was coming. Two thousand children were marching, dying in that cesspool. In the evening, I'd lie on the operating table, docile like a little animal in the heat ; we all loved the sunset, the mask of sleep, the little death, far from snow, cold, mud, dogs ; there was a night light above the table. When I awoke, a stale and intoxicating scent of flowers : blood choked me ; jingling in the room next door, voices, clanking, small wheels on the tiled floor ; I pick up my tatters, a woman shrouded in soapy white squeals leaning against the door, she has blood on her hands, her eye is dead ; under the night light, letter scales swinging : two small balls of flesh shine in the steel scales ; I look at them, the hand slaps my face, there is a jewelled ring on the hand, it scratches my cheek, I walk towards the door, I set my bare foot on the snow, wind seizes my body : \speech{They've taken something from inside me.} In the dormitory, the children --- blackened, excremental tatters hang between their legs --- feel me~: @@ -2036,7 +2041,7 @@ In the dormitory, the children --- blackened, excremental tatters hang between t I hide my head between my hands and collapse on my straw mattress, a wisp of straw tickles my nose, I can breathe Piotr's odour ; against my temple, a tuft of his fair hair. -I don't want to get up, I can't feel the cold any more, the blows are breaking my back. One morning, they unfold my body, shaking hands unfasten my hands from my temples, I am carried as far as the courtyard, the children striped by sun, shadows and wrinkles wave their hands and scream, jeeps are driving around the camp ; I say : \said{I want to walk.} +I don't want to get up, I can't feel the cold any more, the blows are breaking my back. One morning, they unfold my body, shaking hands unfasten my hands from my temples, I am carried as far as the courtyard, the children striped by sun, shadows and wrinkles wave their hands and scream, jeeps are driving around the camp ; I say : \speech{I want to walk.} Someone lays me on a small stage, a very tall officer puts my arm around his shoulders, leans sideways, a woman takes my other arm, I set my feet on the floor and I walk, two birds are singing on a dead tree ; guards in chains come out of the operation room, pushed by soldiers wearing white helmets ; all of a sudden the children become silent. An order, and a large blanket is thrown over the guards. Women, young girls walk across the courtyard, carrying babies in their arms, they wear an armband ; we hold out our arms towards the soldiers who are writing on small wooden boards and we show them our tattoos, the branded number, some soldiers look away\ldots @@ -2048,7 +2053,7 @@ Serge watches rain flow on his bare legs : \speech{As a child, I was so beautifu \ldots He gets up, he walks up towards the top of the building site, enters the palace, walks under the cloister : two soldiers, stripped to the waist, are playing ping-pong, in the diffused light of the storm. Serge goes up to the apartments. In the stairs he overtakes a soldier carrying a tea tray ; a golden medal on his khaki sweater. Serge looks at him ; the soldier~: ---- I'm going to the governor's apartment. All those are lucky to have us ! What are you doing here, you, a month since I've arrived and I see you running everywhere, free\ldots +--- I'm going to the governor's apartment. All those are lucky to have us~! What are you doing here, you, a month since I've arrived and I see you running everywhere, free\ldots Serge remains silent, a raindrop falls from his eyebrows on his cheek, he rushes in the staircase ; here he is at the floor above the soldier's, the smell and the steam from the tea brush his face, he sticks a thumb in his belt, he stops, bends over the soldier~: @@ -2064,7 +2069,7 @@ The soldier looks up and says~: --- Could you love a real woman~? ---- They make love better, that's for sure, but the young, one has to teach them, it's more exciting, isn't it ? And also, they feel their way\ldots +--- They make love better, that's for sure, but the young, one has to teach them, it's more exciting, isn't it~? And also, they feel their way\ldots Serge shivers. He runs away~: @@ -2110,7 +2115,7 @@ The general and three soldiers enter the governor's apartment. From inside the room, comes a call, a moan~: ---- Serge, is it you ? Come, come in, I'm unhappy\ldots +--- Serge, is it you~? Come, come in, I'm unhappy\ldots The boy slips past the door, slowly steps inside the room ; the young woman is lying in semi-darkness on the bed ; on the dressing table gleam the scent bottles and the earrings ; the young woman breathes under the mosquito net, holds out her hand, the boy moves towards the bed, lifts the mosquito net, sits on the edge of the bed, lays his hand on Emilienne's~: @@ -2120,7 +2125,7 @@ The boy stands up, sweat runs on his thighs and the back of his knees, he closes The boy, still holding Emilienne's hand, bends over, the mosquito net brushes his arm and sets him ablaze~: ---- You must not, Serge, you must not, it's not fair, how do you want me not to love you, your youth, your limbs, your skin, your clumsiness\ldots\ leave me, leave me, Oh ! you're so warm~! +--- You must not, Serge, you must not, it's not fair, how do you want me not to love you, your youth, your limbs, your skin, your clumsiness\ldots\ leave me, leave me, Oh~! you're so warm~! --- Say nothing, shut up, I have the daring, shut up, take my neck, my chest, do not scare me away, do what I say, take, take, hold me in your arms, the bosom, my darling\ldots @@ -2140,7 +2145,7 @@ Serge do not leave me alone in this desert, in the palms of this island. Command % TODO this noindent -\noindent Serge lies over Emilienne, elbows on each side of the torso, his radiating chest +Serge lies over Emilienne, elbows on each side of the torso, his radiating chest raised above Emilienne's bare breasts, his hands almost joined on the young woman's lips ; she, looking down, smiling and pushing her lips forward, the boy's belly alive on her ; the sheet flows on the ground~: @@ -2153,9 +2158,9 @@ Then, he rises again, slips out of the bed, closes his shorts, his feet search a Lovers, statues, rocks, arise\ldots\ roll as far as the sea\ldots\ ; fish, salt, eat away the rust clinging to your limbs ; pistons, carburettors, axles, wheels, vibrate, eject oil racing engine under the eternal sun, paws, feelers, nippers, fangs, thorns, blades, spears, sex organs, vibrate ; tears, molten lead, blind the repentant torturer. Cloud, smoke, beat like the heart above me ; sand wind, rekindled ash, men's and beasts' hide turned to powder ; of the embrace all that remains is a bit of powder and the vomiting behind the window pane~: ---- Serge, Serge, are you there ? What are you doing ? You're feeling sick\ldots +--- Serge, Serge, are you there~? What are you doing~? You're feeling sick\ldots -He gets up, turns back, hand wiping mouth, eyes looking down, knees trembling ; through the bathroom pane, he sees Emilienne lying, the sheet thrown back at her feet, shivering, naked, her opened and crumpled dress around her, quivering butterfly, nailed, the lashes blinking quick and black ; the corridor door, the wind slammed it shut. Emilienne rises, takes the dress, slips it on, without buttoning it, then énters the bathroom, the boy is leaning against the partition, hands crossed behind the hips. Emilienne buttons the middle of her dress, lets her gaze slide upon Serge's downcast eyes, goes towards the washbasin, lowers her face in front of the mirror, her hands holding her hair up, on the temples, above the ears ; in the mirror, on the right, she sees the boy leaning against the white partition, legs crossed, shorts crumpled, shirt open, a glimmer on his forehead, he looks up~: +He gets up, turns back, hand wiping mouth, eyes looking down, knees trembling ; through the bathroom pane, he sees Emilienne lying, the sheet thrown back at her feet, shivering, naked, her opened and crumpled dress around her, quivering butterfly, nailed, the lashes blinking quick and black ; the corridor door, the wind slammed it shut. Emilienne rises, takes the dress, slips it on, without buttoning it, then enters the bathroom, the boy is leaning against the partition, hands crossed behind the hips. Emilienne buttons the middle of her dress, lets her gaze slide upon Serge's downcast eyes, goes towards the washbasin, lowers her face in front of the mirror, her hands holding her hair up, on the temples, above the ears ; in the mirror, on the right, she sees the boy leaning against the white partition, legs crossed, shorts crumpled, shirt open, a glimmer on his forehead, he looks up~: --- I'm leaving. @@ -2179,9 +2184,9 @@ He, quivering and languid, nibbles her ear underneath the hair~: They are standing in front of the washbasin, they embrace over the red window ; the sand wind sweeps into the pipes, whirls around the rose trees, covers the water in the ponds, the birds' feathers, in the poultries of the tower city cocks crow, run against the wind ; five foxes sneak in under the wire nettings and swoop down on the squatting hens, trembling, buried under, they let themselves be slaughtered without a cry ; Serge's hands tightly grip Emilienne's neck ; they play, frivolous laughter ; they touch each other furtively, on the knees, the breasts, the thighs\ldots\ they kiss each other's eyes ; the tap wide open, lets a red water flow, Emilienne takes some in her hand and throws it between the boy's thighs, he strokes his wet shorts and places his hand on Emilienne's cheek ; both of them tremble, blush ; now Serge has slipped his hand between Emilienne's breasts, a hand harsh all of a sudden, that parts the breasts violently and moves down to the waist, the tip of the finger hollows the navel, the hand moves up again to a nipple and pinches it ; the young woman's breast writhes, she utters a little cry~: ---- O ! Sergio. +--- O~! Sergio. -Tears well from her eyes, he doesn't notice them, his hand shrouds the breast, his lips, his teeth suck Emilienne's mouth, the young woman's tears run down on his lips, he breaks loose and sees Emilienne cry, his hand lets go of the breast, he releases the grip and here he is, back turned, in the corner of the room, nibbling his fingers ; then he looks back~: +{\sloppy Tears well from her eyes, he doesn't notice them, his hand shrouds the breast, his lips, his teeth suck Emilienne's mouth, the young woman's tears run down on his lips, he breaks loose and sees Emilienne cry, his hand lets go of the breast, he releases the grip and here he is, back turned, in the corner of the room, nibbling his fingers ; then he looks back~: \par} --- Forgive me. @@ -2195,7 +2200,7 @@ He moves towards the mirror, she leans forward, their shoulders touch\ldots --- Go, leave me alone, now, go away\ldots ---- Tonight also I shall come ; and you will go to El\"{o} with us, won't you ? come by the sea tonight ! Now Fabienne means nothing to me any more~! +--- Tonight also I shall come ; and you will go to El\"{o} with us, won't you~? come by the sea tonight~! Now Fabienne means nothing to me any more~! --- You're so happy, you hurt me so much. You're beginning your life, I'm your first pleasure ; you are my first pain\ldots @@ -2213,17 +2218,17 @@ The soldier fires, a bullet runs through Serge's shoulder, another bullet grazes Serge, head against his father's arm, groans, his blood-filled mouth swells and unswells like a flute player's, blood smacks between his lips ; in the middle of the lawn a huge dead bird of prey is drying in the sun ; the child who smells of boxwood is running down the alley, his heels hit the pavement, he pushes a barn's gate, enters, feels his way, his forehead bumps against the beams ; in the darkness, the door has closed on its own. He moves forward, drawn by the animals' breath, he climbs over the manure pile, his foot strikes a calf's hoof, he sits in the manure, huddles, quivering, against the animal and waits ; he listens to the little spring-like noise of the manure flowing down a gutter in the middle of the stable, his shoulder brushes the animal's eye, it stirs and grunts. -The child remains sitting until the end of the afternoon ; at last he gets up, goes to the door, pushes it slightly ; at the end of the street still bleached by sunlight, the soldier walks on tiptoes : looking up, he sees the child, who moves his head back at once in the darkness of the stable ; but the soldier, his rifle hanging from the shoulder and beating his hip, walks towards the door : over, is a red and black placard : \said{Death commando}. +The child remains sitting until the end of the afternoon ; at last he gets up, goes to the door, pushes it slightly ; at the end of the street still bleached by sunlight, the soldier walks on tiptoes : looking up, he sees the child, who moves his head back at once in the darkness of the stable ; but the soldier, his rifle hanging from the shoulder and beating his hip, walks towards the door : over, is a red and black placard : \speech{Death commando}. The child lies down behind the calf, chin, belly and knees in the manure, temple leaning on the animal's muzzle : the little knife shines on the window sill, over there in the daylight, the child opens and closes his hand, he wants to feel the cold of the blade ; the door swings open, appears the soldier, the child can see against the light, the outline of the hips and of the thighs between the legs, the folds of the battledress at the place of the cock, the rifle's butt and light ; the child, lying in the manure, becomes more heavy, hollows the manure, with his knees and belly, sinks, grows heavy like a crab, the soiled straw pricks his nostrils, his eyelids, cow dung gets caught in his lips, his eyelashes, his close-cropped hair, the scabs on his head, he suffocates, the soldier starts, sees the child's half-naked body against the motionless calf, the quivering back, the bare buttocks of the child, his soiled feet, his knees covered with manure ; he grits his teeth, turns his head, right, left, sees a hayfork behind the door, grabs it, makes it jump in his hand, holds it before him and rushes upon the child. -The child gets up, his arms shoot out, he is standing, he runs towards the end of the stable, towards darkness, the soldier runs after him, pricks the dark with the hayfork, his forehead bumps against a beam, a cockrel flies off, beats its wings over the soldier, gets entangled in the rifle strap, through the excremental dust, calls, its claws get caught in the soldier's epaulettes, slide on the battledress, for a second, the comb, crumpled, fresh, touches the soldier's lips ; he pushes the cockrel away with his free hand, the crying cockrel falls along the soldier and escapes between his legs, runs towards the door, feathers all ruffled ; the soldier : \said{Fucking cock}, and he throws the hayfork forward. +The child gets up, his arms shoot out, he is standing, he runs towards the end of the stable, towards darkness, the soldier runs after him, pricks the dark with the hayfork, his forehead bumps against a beam, a cockrel flies off, beats its wings over the soldier, gets entangled in the rifle strap, through the excremental dust, calls, its claws get caught in the soldier's epaulets, slide on the battledress, for a second, the comb, crumpled, fresh, touches the soldier's lips ; he pushes the cockrel away with his free hand, the crying cockrel falls along the soldier and escapes between his legs, runs towards the door, feathers all ruffled ; the soldier : \speech{Fucking cock}, and he throws the hayfork forward. A scream, the child collapses, heel caught in the fork, in between two prongs, the soldier roars, beats his chest, lets himself fall over the child he cannot see. The child struggles, the soldier tilts his head backwards ; kneeling on the child, he strikes him~: --- A pity you're not a woman~! -The child struggles, bites, his fingers search for the soldier's eyes ; the soldier strikes the child whose heel gets twisted under his knee ; he strikes, his hand, a moment, slides upon the belly ; the child is naked, the hand lingers, the fingers brush the navel ; the soldier feels his penis harden between his thighs stretched by kneeling ; his fingers move down to the lower part of the belly, his hand gently takes the child's penis, holds all of it, gently presses it, the tip of the fingers brushing the light down above and beneath the penis, the penis's extremity warming the centre of the palm ; the child suddenly relaxed, his arms fell back on the manure, on both sides of the chest~: +The child struggles, bites, his fingers search for the soldier's eyes ; the soldier strikes the child whose heel gets twisted under his knee ; he strikes, his hand, a moment, slides upon the belly ; the child is naked, the hand lingers, the fingers brush the navel ; the soldier feels his penis harden between his thighs stretched by kneeling ; his fingers move down to the lower part of the belly, his hand gently takes the child's penis, holds all of it, gently presses it, the tip of the fingers brushing the light down above and beneath the penis, the penis' extremity warming the centre of the palm ; the child suddenly relaxed, his arms fell back on the manure, on both sides of the chest~: --- A pity you're not a woman~! A pity you're not a woman~! @@ -2241,7 +2246,7 @@ The soldier feels two small hands held out but failing to reach him. He walks to --- The commandos fill them with animals stolen from the villages. ---- Who killed that child ? The soldier~? +--- Who killed that child~? The soldier~? --- Your Excellency, the commandos did ; last night ; they enter the refectory, drunk, half undressed. They break plates, brain the cooks ; I arrive, I see the folds in their hands red, the blood all fresh ; the sentries overpower them, throw them in the jail ; I listen : five or six of them asleep, the other ones come closer, help themselves, speak in a low voice ; they whistle, they puff and blow, they whine\ldots\ then, gradually, sneer, laugh. @@ -2251,7 +2256,7 @@ I visit the jail, at dawn, under the threat of the relieving guard they confess The child is at the infirmary ; to carry him, one needs some tent canvas or a stretcher, the limbs fall apart, there are a hundred fork wounds, your Excellency. -After surgery, his knee heavy and tightly wrapped, Serge moves his lips, his head falls on his imprisoned shoulder, his teeth pull the bandage, the sea tolls at the foot of the bed, the photographs float on the hollow sea ; in the waves, the jeeps leap, the antennas beat the salty air, the iron muscles, under the coachwork, hit the rocks, in the sunny water, jeeps, leaning on the waves, seats slit open, horsehair coming out of the cloth, hair-seaweed between the slaughtered soldiers' legs, four by four, blood smacking inside their mouth, spurting at the corner of the lips, the morning spreading over the world, helmets, leathers where blood's ants sparkle, heads reddened, ear shivering in the morning wind, fish nibbles golden medal on uncovered throat, the waves blacken the hair on the nape, small flames of salt, water swells my underpants, Emilienne puts her hand, it's blood, here I am leaping, noon, sliding in the saltpetre, on my belly and getting up again, under your breasts, in the granitic shade, mummy, I want to be a conqueror, mummy the Romans, the Romans, my horse quivers, its nostrils scouring the green plain, I am a conqueror, but I see the frog shoot out of the green water. My big boy, don't forget those frogs, Mummy the Romans, the ground shakes, under them, you will meet Audry, he comes out of the bushes, he's holding a woman by her hair, her feet are on fire. Keep quiet, Serge, go to sleep quickly. Why do you draw that cross on my forehead again ? better draw it on my belly. Sleep my darling, Emilienne, Emilienne, if I die, take Audry, put your hands on his belly, dress him up, he's trembling, the barbed wire pierces his hips, the sheep flee across the whipped grass, take him, touch his shaven skin, make love to him, take him out of El\"{o}, his hair sprouts again, he lies over you, at noon, you fall asleep after fucking, you feel warm under the wool. The bronze sphere flies under the clouds, it's looking for you, it falls among the trees, you're making love together, it crushes you both, rolls towards the pond, and whizzes on the water. I want you to name me Sossello, to touch my costume, to adore me, or else a fox searches under your blouse and devours you Tarcisius I spit on the host, it melts on my chest, it slides inside my shorts, on my thigh, the high tension wires are humming through the burnt air, the powder from mating insects flows in my ear ; girls and boys leave the tennis court, leap, immaculate, in the brooms, run after the blackbird in the tunnel ; you know, they grow mushrooms since the trains do not pass any more. Serge, my little poet, she strokes my cheek, takes my chin, in her fingers and smiles to me ; she escapes, she jumps on the rails, her white skirt brushes the nettles, drops of water fall on her shoulders, run along the vault and dig holes in the golden sand covered by coal. I run after her, V\'{e}ronique, I catch her waist, she falls on my arm, gives herself up, I kiss her lips made bitter by the coal. Leave me alone, Serge, daddy died inside a tunnel, they beat him up. She shivers and cries in my arms. But, you should be happy, for him, for them. I love you. Mummy is going to die. I shall be your mother now. In the tunnel entrance, branches, wings, leaves, rocks, transparent, sparkle like ice ; V\'{e}ronique, put your hand on my belly, it burns day and night ; it's you who are inside, touch. Under the large lonely summer leaf, a dragonfly, shrill, threatens our bare lips. +After surgery, his knee heavy and tightly wrapped, Serge moves his lips, his head falls on his imprisoned shoulder, his teeth pull the bandage, the sea tolls at the foot of the bed, the photographs float on the hollow sea ; in the waves, the jeeps leap, the antennas beat the salty air, the iron muscles, under the coachwork, hit the rocks, in the sunny water, jeeps, leaning on the waves, seats slit open, horsehair coming out of the cloth, hair-seaweed between the slaughtered soldiers' legs, four by four, blood smacking inside their mouth, spurting at the corner of the lips, the morning spreading over the world, helmets, leathers where blood's ants sparkle, heads reddened, ear shivering in the morning wind, fish nibbles golden medal on uncovered throat, the waves blacken the hair on the nape, small flames of salt, water swells my underpants, Emilienne puts her hand, it's blood, here I am leaping, noon, sliding in the saltpetre, on my belly and getting up again, under your breasts, in the granitic shade, mummy, I want to be a conqueror, mummy the Romans, the Romans, my horse quivers, its nostrils scouring the green plain, I am a conqueror, but I see the frog shoot out of the green water. My big boy, don't forget those frogs, Mummy the Romans, the ground shakes, under them, you will meet Audry, he comes out of the bushes, he's holding a woman by her hair, her feet are on fire. Keep quiet, Serge, go to sleep quickly. Why do you draw that cross on my forehead again~? better draw it on my belly. Sleep my darling, Emilienne, Emilienne, if I die, take Audry, put your hands on his belly, dress him up, he's trembling, the barbed wire pierces his hips, the sheep flee across the whipped grass, take him, touch his shaven skin, make love to him, take him out of El\"{o}, his hair sprouts again, he lies over you, at noon, you fall asleep after fucking, you feel warm under the wool. The bronze sphere flies under the clouds, it's looking for you, it falls among the trees, you're making love together, it crushes you both, rolls towards the pond, and whizzes on the water. I want you to name me Sossello, to touch my costume, to adore me, or else a fox searches under your blouse and devours you Tarcisius I spit on the host, it melts on my chest, it slides inside my shorts, on my thigh, the high tension wires are humming through the burnt air, the powder from mating insects flows in my ear ; girls and boys leave the tennis court, leap, immaculate, in the brooms, run after the blackbird in the tunnel ; you know, they grow mushrooms since the trains do not pass any more. Serge, my little poet, she strokes my cheek, takes my chin, in her fingers and smiles to me ; she escapes, she jumps on the rails, her white skirt brushes the nettles, drops of water fall on her shoulders, run along the vault and dig holes in the golden sand covered by coal. I run after her, V\'eronique, I catch her waist, she falls on my arm, gives herself up, I kiss her lips made bitter by the coal. Leave me alone, Serge, daddy died inside a tunnel, they beat him up. She shivers and cries in my arms. But, you should be happy, for him, for them. I love you. Mummy is going to die. I shall be your mother now. In the tunnel entrance, branches, wings, leaves, rocks, transparent, sparkle like ice ; V\'eronique, put your hand on my belly, it burns day and night ; it's you who are inside, touch. Under the large lonely summer leaf, a dragonfly, shrill, threatens our bare lips. The commandos are put in irons, inside the palace jail ; the people mutter around the palace, bite the guards' rifles, a group of young artists carry a red banner on which is painted a portrait of the slaughtered child. @@ -2338,7 +2343,7 @@ Illiten, head down, stares at the dust on the floor, long and black animals are The soldier leans over~: ---- Do you wash yourselves in your maquis ? and how do you fuck ? You fuck your men, right ? against the rocks. All those we caught said you had a sharp one. Savages. +--- Do you wash yourselves in your maquis~? and how do you fuck~? You fuck your men, right~? against the rocks. All those we caught said you had a sharp one. Savages. He returns to the desk, sits down, looks at Illiten crouching and the dead rat beside him, the rat and its fringe of red foam along the mouth\ldots @@ -2350,7 +2355,7 @@ I get out of bed, I lay my bare foot on the bedside rug, underneath, two small b --- You're a filthy whore, a filthy whore. -She looks down, puts her hand on my cock, I go to the window, I am strong ; in two weeks my arms became hard, my belly has well developed muscles, that whore, I hurt her, the bones of my belly smothered the public baby germinating inside her entrails ; wind blows down along her hips ; flags are flapping under thé searchlights : \said{I too, am a prisoner}, I feel cold, my nape is itching under the hair. +She looks down, puts her hand on my cock, I go to the window, I am strong ; in two weeks my arms became hard, my belly has well developed muscles, that whore, I hurt her, the bones of my belly smothered the public baby germinating inside her entrails ; wind blows down along her hips ; flags are flapping under the searchlights : \speech{I too, am a prisoner}, I feel cold, my nape is itching under the hair. --- You've been allowed to come and kiss me~? @@ -2362,13 +2367,13 @@ She looks down, puts her hand on my cock, I go to the window, I am strong ; in t --- You were caught with weapons. ----I crossed ruins, rivers, dead bodies ; here I found a platoon, they say : \said{Let's fight, come back to our motherland to defend our daughters and our wives.} I say : \said{They raped and killed mummy, raped and killed Marien, threw Hans into a fire hydrant.} +---I crossed ruins, rivers, dead bodies ; here I found a platoon, they say : \speech{Let's fight, come back to our motherland to defend our daughters and our wives.} I say : \speech{They raped and killed mummy, raped and killed Marien, threw Hans into a fire hydrant.} I'm sitting on the grass, worms are squashed by the rifle butts on the black earth ; down there the sky is red, birds shoot out of the bushes ; the following day at dawn, I get caught. The window swivels and stops on my thigh. -\ldots\ I'm hungry, I leap into the orchards, I eat the green fruits, I hide behind the hanging sheets flapping in the night, above the shiny stones, the moon flees with the clouds ; the soapy water runs along the sheets, I crouch down, a hand settles on my wet buttocks, very gently like a bird alighting before shooting off again ; the hand slides under my buttocks, moves up along my thighs ; on the horizon, a shadow rises, beyond the forests, like a wing, like a huge fin ; the hand's voice says : \said{It's finished ; they've got their victory. Let's die.} +\ldots\ I'm hungry, I leap into the orchards, I eat the green fruits, I hide behind the hanging sheets flapping in the night, above the shiny stones, the moon flees with the clouds ; the soapy water runs along the sheets, I crouch down, a hand settles on my wet buttocks, very gently like a bird alighting before shooting off again ; the hand slides under my buttocks, moves up along my thighs ; on the horizon, a shadow rises, beyond the forests, like a wing, like a huge fin ; the hand's voice says : \speech{It's finished ; they've got their victory. Let's die.} The hand knocks me down over a tall crouching officer, between his thighs, my elbows running against the knees ; I struggle~: @@ -2378,23 +2383,23 @@ He hugs me against his chest, I shake my head, his hand moves down on my belly~: --- But before, I want to fuck you. -I feel his cock harden under the uniform cloth, press upon my buttocks, I look down, my hair falls back on his hand, I bite it with all my teeth, he lets go, I escape, his saliva dries on my nape, I run, I dive in the barbed wire, I scream ; my bare toe, my navel, my knees are bleeding, the tall officer runs after me, I push the fence, I close it again, he's running, his medals, his stripes, his buckles sparkle under the moon ; the pistol holster beats on his hip ; I hate the colour of his uniform ; Mummy says : \said{They kill children, they throw them into pits of fire.} +I feel his cock harden under the uniform cloth, press upon my buttocks, I look down, my hair falls back on his hand, I bite it with all my teeth, he lets go, I escape, his saliva dries on my nape, I run, I dive in the barbed wire, I scream ; my bare toe, my navel, my knees are bleeding, the tall officer runs after me, I push the fence, I close it again, he's running, his medals, his stripes, his buckles sparkle under the moon ; the pistol holster beats on his hip ; I hate the colour of his uniform ; Mummy says : \speech{They kill children, they throw them into pits of fire.} -Daddy says : \said{I love my chief, those children aren't even little dogs.} +Daddy says : \speech{I love my chief, those children aren't even little dogs.} -A soldier, his eyes are slanted, he has fur around his hands, a soldier shows Marien and throws out his belly, daddy steps forward, he holds her tight against the wall, he says : \said{Don't be scared, it's nothing.} +A soldier, his eyes are slanted, he has fur around his hands, a soldier shows Marien and throws out his belly, daddy steps forward, he holds her tight against the wall, he says : \speech{Don't be scared, it's nothing.} -They slaughter mummy with Hans in the pigsty, a soldier holds me hands tied behind my back ; daddy opens his trousers, Marien is trembling, I scream, I dash forward, foam spatters my nostrils, my bare throat : \said{Don't do that. Marien, strangle him. Kill him, Marien.}, she utters a little groan, she quivers, her feet contract in the mud, the soldiers laugh around us, their fair hair wet with wine ; Marien's head falls on daddy's shoulder, he grows rigid, the head jumps ; a tall soldier holding a chipped glass in hand leaps on daddy from behind, draws a sabre from his belt, I become silent, burning tears gush, flow on my cheeks, on the hands of the soldier holding me ; the tall soldier raises his sabre, drives it into the back of daddy who flings his right arm on his loins and hits the sabre sinking, running through Marien and bending against the stone ; both bodies collapse, the soldier holding the sabre is flung on them, forwards ; the poplars are on fire, the pigs squealing between the trunks, soldiers shoot them point blank, the animals start, bump into the trunks, ashes, embers slide along the branches and fall on the animals' backs, on their flanks ; then large embers, blazing branches, the tops fall in, the soldiers throw them, sweep them up, push them over the pigs ; the pigs burn until evening, the soldiers with hayforks hook their bodies, pull them on the fresh grass, cut them up and wolf them still burning hot, spit out the raw bits ; the grass is littered with shreds of charred bones ; I am drunk, they open my mouth, fill it with meat, caress the border of my lips, my shoulders ; my eyes are cooked ; they cram a helmet around my head and bang on it with their sabres and guns ; a drunken soldier, over there, in the light of the glowing fire, drags my mother's body by the feet around the fire, along the embers ; poplars break down on the pond's icy water, ash walks on grass, I hold out my arms towards the flames, the soldier's hands clutch my chest beneath the arms, mummy turns her eyes towards me ; Hans's feet and knees are sticking out of the pigsty ; mummy's head is jumping on the pebbles ; the lilac burns against the pigsty ; the fire takes underwater, the clouds flee towards the sea : \speech{Do not avenge us, live, love, love\ldots}, the soldier with his foot pushes her into the fire, her shoulder sizzles under the fangs\ldots +They slaughter mummy with Hans in the pigsty, a soldier holds me hands tied behind my back ; daddy opens his trousers, Marien is trembling, I scream, I dash forward, foam spatters my nostrils, my bare throat : \speech{Don't do that. Marien, strangle him. Kill him, Marien.}, she utters a little groan, she quivers, her feet contract in the mud, the soldiers laugh around us, their fair hair wet with wine ; Marien's head falls on daddy's shoulder, he grows rigid, the head jumps ; a tall soldier holding a chipped glass in hand leaps on daddy from behind, draws a sabre from his belt, I become silent, burning tears gush, flow on my cheeks, on the hands of the soldier holding me ; the tall soldier raises his sabre, drives it into the back of daddy who flings his right arm on his loins and hits the sabre sinking, running through Marien and bending against the stone ; both bodies collapse, the soldier holding the sabre is flung on them, forwards ; the poplars are on fire, the pigs squealing between the trunks, soldiers shoot them point blank, the animals start, bump into the trunks, ashes, embers slide along the branches and fall on the animals' backs, on their flanks ; then large embers, blazing branches, the tops fall in, the soldiers throw them, sweep them up, push them over the pigs ; the pigs burn until evening, the soldiers with hayforks hook their bodies, pull them on the fresh grass, cut them up and wolf them still burning hot, spit out the raw bits ; the grass is littered with shreds of charred bones ; I am drunk, they open my mouth, fill it with meat, caress the border of my lips, my shoulders ; my eyes are cooked ; they cram a helmet around my head and bang on it with their sabres and guns ; a drunken soldier, over there, in the light of the glowing fire, drags my mother's body by the feet around the fire, along the embers ; poplars break down on the pond's icy water, ash walks on grass, I hold out my arms towards the flames, the soldier's hands clutch my chest beneath the arms, mummy turns her eyes towards me ; Hans' feet and knees are sticking out of the pigsty ; mummy's head is jumping on the pebbles ; the lilac burns against the pigsty ; the fire takes underwater, the clouds flee towards the sea : \speech{Do not avenge us, live, love, love\ldots}, the soldier with his foot pushes her into the fire, her shoulder sizzles under the fangs\ldots \ldots\speech{Come and warm yourself up against me, come.} -I go to the door, I raise my arm, my fist makes the plasterwork crumble, in the mirror I see the sweat on my forehead, she opens her arms to me, I fling myself upon her, I devour her, my fist covered with plaster parts the lips of her cunt : \speech{How many men devour you day and night ?\ldots}, I hit her on the face, I twist her breasts, I pull her head over them, my thumbs groove her belly : \speech{You love me because I'm abandoned, because I bring you the smell of wind} then I make love to her, we make love among the motionless things, the window shuts off the noise of the waterfall, her belly, her breasts, her shoulders, under me, fish in the golden sweat : \speech{Because I have nothing you can love, except my skin, my eyes, my hair, my sperm.} +I go to the door, I raise my arm, my fist makes the plasterwork crumble, in the mirror I see the sweat on my forehead, she opens her arms to me, I fling myself upon her, I devour her, my fist covered with plaster parts the lips of her cunt : \speech{How many men devour you day and night~?\ldots}, I hit her on the face, I twist her breasts, I pull her head over them, my thumbs groove her belly : \speech{You love me because I'm abandoned, because I bring you the smell of wind} then I make love to her, we make love among the motionless things, the window shuts off the noise of the waterfall, her belly, her breasts, her shoulders, under me, fish in the golden sweat : \speech{Because I have nothing you can love, except my skin, my eyes, my hair, my sperm.} Ah~! I crawl over the sea, I feel proud beside my captain, our horses are touching one another ; inside the jeep, I eat a biscuit, red silex spatters the blue sky, plants, flowers discharge their milk, their sap, grass where emerald flows, is covered with beetles ; my hand hangs on the burning sheet iron, my fingers hit the ted reflector, the powdery cherries, they explode, the lieutenant's cheek is spattered, blood wets his shirt's collar, but he smiles, he speaks to the driver, he looks back, smiles and speaks to me, his lips are moving, saliva shines at the corner of his lips~: --- Lieutenant, you're not wounded~? -I feel proud, the jeep runs on the rustling wheat, on the robes of anointing ; shame covers me like blood. No more shame, my glory ; on the grass corpses are burning, petrol explodes in the afternoon, birds assemble in the dark and cool bottom of the valley and sing when the bodies burn ; gibbets, telegraph poles, blocks crumble in the fire ; a ray of light runs on the snow, along the slope ; soldiers grip our necks : \said{See what you've done} ; outside the circle of fire, a dead baby shrivelled up on the grass, his foot charred ; l'm standing behind a tall woman in a coat, I bend behind her hips, she laughs, her hips are trembling : inside the blaze, a long and thin leg springs forward, then an arm towards the foot ; the woman bursts out laughing, a soldier pushes me away, hits the woman's shoulder, with his rifle butt, he has spring foliage on his helmet ; the woman falls, head forward in the blaze ; her arms flame, sizzle like paper, ash hovers above the bodies, in the quivering of flames, like a swarm of inebriated insects. +I feel proud, the jeep runs on the rustling wheat, on the robes of anointing ; shame covers me like blood. No more shame, my glory ; on the grass corpses are burning, petrol explodes in the afternoon, birds assemble in the dark and cool bottom of the valley and sing when the bodies burn ; gibbets, telegraph poles, blocks crumble in the fire ; a ray of light runs on the snow, along the slope ; soldiers grip our necks : \speech{See what you've done} ; outside the circle of fire, a dead baby shrivelled up on the grass, his foot charred ; I'm standing behind a tall woman in a coat, I bend behind her hips, she laughs, her hips are trembling : inside the blaze, a long and thin leg springs forward, then an arm towards the foot ; the woman bursts out laughing, a soldier pushes me away, hits the woman's shoulder, with his rifle butt, he has spring foliage on his helmet ; the woman falls, head forward in the blaze ; her arms flame, sizzle like paper, ash hovers above the bodies, in the quivering of flames, like a swarm of inebriated insects. I'm facing the fire, the soldier grabs me by the shoulders, he makes me swing round, and pushes me through the villagers ; an officer is reading a map in his jeep, he looks up, takes my chin, in his fingers ; a very young woman is sitting next to him on the canvas cushions, she gets out of the jeep, she comes to me, the soldier salutes~: @@ -2422,11 +2427,11 @@ She comes out of the house, her hands settle on the deck chair, brush my shoulde She guides me inside the house, makes me sit in the kitchen and brings me fruits, eggs and milk : she watches me eating, sitting in front of me, lowering her eyelids when I look up towards her ; the officer comes in, opens a drawer, takes a knife~: ---- For your weapon ? Oh~! darling\ldots +--- For your weapon~? Oh~! darling\ldots She wipes my lips with a blue paper napkin, standing behind me, she grabs my head in her hands and drops a kiss in my hair, she leads me upstairs, in a red room ; a bed by the window with opened sheets ; she leaves me in the middle of the room, I step towards the bed, drawn by the whiteness and the soft scent of the sheets ; she opens the cupboard, takes a pair of pyjamas, comes closer to the bed, I sit on it, my knees are trembling, she sits against me, her arm around my shoulders, her fingers touch my cheek, her breast warms my forearm ; her other hand unbuttons my shirt, both her hands take it off and fold it on the bed, pull my underpants, arms raised high ; the sky is golden above the trees ; the pyjamas jacket brushes my chest ; the young woman is now at my feet ; she removes my sandals, then I get up and unfasten my belt, my shorts fall on my knees ; as she is crouching, the top of her dress, loosened, uncovers her breasts slightly ; a ray of light comes in from the window, crosses the floor as far as below her, lighting her dress from underneath and I see her thighs through it. -At night, I cry in my bed, I moan, she pushes the door open, sits on my bed, her hand covers my burning forehead, she draws crosses on it : \speech{my fat one, my fat one\ldots}, her dishevelled hair flows on my shoulder, on her night gown ; on the waist, the hips, on the breasts, slight marks of fingers : the officer's embrace, his hands still smeared with rifle grease, the sweat under his belt, on his chest and under his arms ; my foot, under the sheet, touches her thigh ; her lips tremble ; the tops of the fir trees, black, shaking, throw their nests to the ground ; the small birds cry tumbling down from one bough to another, yes, I can hear them and the murmur of the green torrents and the screams of the blind at the edge of the glowing fires. +At night, I cry in my bed, I moan, she pushes the door open, sits on my bed, her hand covers my burning forehead, she draws crosses on it : \speech{my fat one, my fat one\ldots}, her disheveled hair flows on my shoulder, on her night gown ; on the waist, the hips, on the breasts, slight marks of fingers : the officer's embrace, his hands still smeared with rifle grease, the sweat under his belt, on his chest and under his arms ; my foot, under the sheet, touches her thigh ; her lips tremble ; the tops of the fir trees, black, shaking, throw their nests to the ground ; the small birds cry tumbling down from one bough to another, yes, I can hear them and the murmur of the green torrents and the screams of the blind at the edge of the glowing fires. A rather brutal voice calls her from the end of the corridor~: @@ -2438,13 +2443,13 @@ She gives a start, her voice becomes more tender, the young woman draws a new cr So, I get up, I wait for the middle of the night, the end of their embraces, I put my clothes on, I carry my sandals in my hand, I walk down the stairs, I push the terrace glazed door, the black wind from the trees knocks me down and chokes me, but I fly over the valley, sandals in hand. I settle on a millwheel, the warm foam splashes my knees and my thighs, half-eaten corpses float, swirl on the copper coloured pebbles, the water's jaws\ldots -The soldier starts, Illiten is writhing on the floor, the soldier touches his gun. +{\sloppy The soldier starts, Illiten is writhing on the floor, the soldier touches his gun. \par} \secbreak In the cardinal's palace, the waiters lift the porcelain and silver dishes over the general's shoulder ; at the beginning of the dinner, the darkened courtyard, below the dining room windows, became filled with screams, calls, laughter : the little castrati are playing ball, sparrowhawk, bars ; the general feels sorry that the dinner started, he imagines the thighs tightly fitted in flannel, the locks stuck on the forehead by sweat, the little throats beating and hoarse ; the waiters are aware of the general's desire ; they promise the best pieces, extra dishes, refuge in the kitchens during the compulsory games, to the little castrati singled out by the general in the ranks, provided that they let themselves by him be fondled and hugged, without a cry. -The waiters are very young soldiers : behind the general they utter little groans, they yelp, hollow and bulge their belly ; the cardinal is deaf, half-blind ; at times, even, the general, very furtively, lets his elbow lean on a waiter's hip ; before dinner, he left the cardinal who was inquiring \said{about his always slightly worried soul} ; he went down to the basement, pushed the kitchen door : the waiters, in shorts rolled up to the pockets, bending over the ranges, drive their hands in the steam ; a waiter cuts a quarter of meat, in the far end, in a small alcove lit by a blood-spattered bulb ; his shorts are smeared with fat and blood, his half-opened shirt and the front of his shorts are bloody, covered with shreds of nerve, the down on his lips and cheeks, his chin, shine with a pink sweat of blood ; the general steps forward, bends his head under the alcove's lintel, the waiter drops his knives and springs to attention, his fingers fiddling with the shorts' hem ; a button hangs on a thread between the thighs ; the general looks downwards~: +The waiters are very young soldiers : behind the general they utter little groans, they yelp, hollow and bulge their belly ; the cardinal is deaf, half-blind ; at times, even, the general, very furtively, lets his elbow lean on a waiter's hip ; before dinner, he left the cardinal who was inquiring \speech{about his always slightly worried soul} ; he went down to the basement, pushed the kitchen door : the waiters, in shorts rolled up to the pockets, bending over the ranges, drive their hands in the steam ; a waiter cuts a quarter of meat, in the far end, in a small alcove lit by a blood-spattered bulb ; his shorts are smeared with fat and blood, his half-opened shirt and the front of his shorts are bloody, covered with shreds of nerve, the down on his lips and cheeks, his chin, shine with a pink sweat of blood ; the general steps forward, bends his head under the alcove's lintel, the waiter drops his knives and springs to attention, his fingers fiddling with the shorts' hem ; a button hangs on a thread between the thighs ; the general looks downwards~: --- Watch your clothes, sew that button on again. @@ -2454,7 +2459,7 @@ The general moves his hands towards the waiter's belly, touches the shorts, catc --- Continue your work. -The waiter bends over his stall, takes his knives, waves them and thrusts them in the meat quarter ; the general turns round, goes inside the kitchen, walks along the buttocks and bare legs of the cooks bending over the ranges. His eyes see and take in the curve of the cheek, the fluttering of the eyelids and lashes, the root, through the vapour, of the shoulder, the sweat, mixed with steam, running along the veins of the neck, the hip's roll of fat, over the belt, the soaked, crumpled shirt, turned up on both sides, the sweat at the hollow of the knee, the hem of the shorts tucked up as far as the root of the buttock, the motion of the shoulders on the stretched shirt, the swell of the collarbone beginning at the veins of the neck ; the general quivers, on the edge of those palpitations ; his hip, his knee, his thigh, his arm, his shoulder, his temple are roused : \speech{To fling myself upon these bodies ready for pleasure, embrace these strong and moist backs, flatten my belly against these buttocks, these moving thighs, my hands clinging to their hips, my fingers pressing on the belly, hollowing it down to the cock, pulling the hair, my nails scraping the sweat between the hair, then my hand opening up and passing beneath the cock and closing itself again on the balls ; the other hand holding the cock and feeling it grow hard, and taut and burning and red like red- hot iron ; eat, lick the down, the hair on the nape, above the ear, nibble the ear, my tongue burrow inside, that tickling arouse the boy, a quivering run through his body burning and covered with sweat, my shoulders shiver, my eyes prick, the tears well up and flow along the boy's temples, and he, turn his head slightly and drink them ; my tongue still burrowing into his ear, and his cock beat in my hand. All the other ones sprawled across the tiled floor, in the coal, the crushed peelings and the gluey steam, legs spread apart, hands caught in the shorts' grimy hem and pulling it and uncovering the shadow of the cock and the light from the basement window and from the reddening lamp making the sweat scintillate on that shadow my lips are waiting for ; they're writhing on the tiles, backs arched ; only shoulders, napes and heels touching the tiles, --- offering their thighs and their bellies, shirt tucked up and flowing as far as the chin, stifling the mouth ; they turn over and over, the shorts' cloth cracks, the seams set free the imprisoned skin, dishwater found in the afternoon ; they roll, they embrace each other, the shorts crack, tear, the legs intertwine ; slide one upon another, slowly, after the spasms, like snakes piled up after the rush for spoils\ldots} +The waiter bends over his stall, takes his knives, waves them and thrusts them in the meat quarter ; the general turns round, goes inside the kitchen, walks along the buttocks and bare legs of the cooks bending over the ranges. His eyes see and take in the curve of the cheek, the fluttering of the eyelids and lashes, the root, through the vapour, of the shoulder, the sweat, mixed with steam, running along the veins of the neck, the hip's roll of fat, over the belt, the soaked, crumpled shirt, turned up on both sides, the sweat at the hollow of the knee, the hem of the shorts tucked up as far as the root of the buttock, the motion of the shoulders on the stretched shirt, the swell of the collarbone beginning at the veins of the neck ; the general quivers, on the edge of those palpitations ; his hip, his knee, his thigh, his arm, his shoulder, his temple are roused : \speech{To fling myself upon these bodies ready for pleasure, embrace these strong and moist backs, flatten my belly against these buttocks, these moving thighs, my hands clinging to their hips, my fingers pressing on the belly, hollowing it down to the cock, pulling the hair, my nails scraping the sweat between the hair, then my hand opening up and passing beneath the cock and closing itself again on the balls ; the other hand holding the cock and feeling it grow hard, and taut and burning and red like red-hot iron ; eat, lick the down, the hair on the nape, above the ear, nibble the ear, my tongue burrow inside, that tickling arouse the boy, a quivering run through his body burning and covered with sweat, my shoulders shiver, my eyes prick, the tears well up and flow along the boy's temples, and he, turn his head slightly and drink them ; my tongue still burrowing into his ear, and his cock beat in my hand. All the other ones sprawled across the tiled floor, in the coal, the crushed peelings and the gluey steam, legs spread apart, hands caught in the shorts' grimy hem and pulling it and uncovering the shadow of the cock and the light from the basement window and from the reddening lamp making the sweat scintillate on that shadow my lips are waiting for ; they're writhing on the tiles, backs arched ; only shoulders, napes and heels touching the tiles, --- offering their thighs and their bellies, shirt tucked up and flowing as far as the chin, stifling the mouth ; they turn over and over, the shorts' cloth cracks, the seams set free the imprisoned skin, dishwater found in the afternoon ; they roll, they embrace each other, the shorts crack, tear, the legs intertwine ; slide one upon another, slowly, after the spasms, like snakes piled up after the rush for spoils\ldots} --- General, what are you dreaming about~? @@ -2462,7 +2467,7 @@ The waiter bends over his stall, takes his knives, waves them and thrusts them i --- It will soon be two weeks that we haven't seen the governor, nor our dear son Serge, the little Sergio. ---- The governor doesn't understand the soldiers, he tries to handle them with kindness, he wants to make them forget their soldier's condition ; I alone get the feeling of those little mounts ; one must order them about, submit them, make them cry, after that they'Il remain faithful to you to their dying day ; harden them with two or three executions, and the promise of rapes, and here they are by your side, all close to you, lying by night at your feet. +--- The governor doesn't understand the soldiers, he tries to handle them with kindness, he wants to make them forget their soldier's condition ; I alone get the feeling of those little mounts ; one must order them about, submit them, make them cry, after that they'll remain faithful to you to their dying day ; harden them with two or three executions, and the promise of rapes, and here they are by your side, all close to you, lying by night at your feet. --- I've been told they are very dirty. @@ -2504,9 +2509,9 @@ The crouching general squeezes the telephone between his knees ; the cardinal an % TODO where does this speech end? -\speech{\ldots tear off that costume, burn those badges, the one with the butcher's knife, push them in the fire, crouching, a glow on my forehead, I opening silently the door, my foot still inside the blue room, walk towards him, lay my hands on his buttocks then on his warm and pink brow : do you want to set up a boys' brothel with me ? --- With buckets in the courtyard and manure for the clients ? --- Yes, but you, the master after me, a whip in your hand, a tiger's hide between the thighs, you, up on a wooden balcony, you command the theatre ; you eat from my plate, you drink from my glass, you lick the grain in my hand ; two black boys throw sand on the ergastulum --- Are you willing to do it~?} +\speech{\ldots tear off that costume, burn those badges, the one with the butcher's knife, push them in the fire, crouching, a glow on my forehead, I opening silently the door, my foot still inside the blue room, walk towards him, lay my hands on his buttocks then on his warm and pink brow : do you want to set up a boys' brothel with me~? --- With buckets in the courtyard and manure for the clients~? --- Yes, but you, the master after me, a whip in your hand, a tiger's hide between the thighs, you, up on a wooden balcony, you command the theatre ; you eat from my plate, you drink from my glass, you lick the grain in my hand ; two black boys throw sand on the ergastulum --- Are you willing to do it~? -I bring him against me, I hug him against me, he slavers on my cheek. Now I will put on my pilgrim's robe, he gets up by my side, his hardened cock against my thigh ; under his nails, the smell of sperm ; head tilted back, hair flowing on my wrists, mouth half-opened, where did you learn how to make love so well ? --- Since I'm born, all raped me under the blue sun, they knocked me down on earth made colourless by means of so much light, my back, my belly against the dying flies, their cock penetrates as far as my heart, when they withdraw it, my belly burns ; the flies, piled up on the shit, in the cesspools, above us, shoot out, satiated, of the darkness and come down on our intertwined bodies, they vibrate, scream, drawn by the smell of sperm ; my prince knocked down under me your words lifting my chest, your wrath under my knees, sealed one to another, and the wind racing from the plain's end and blackening the wheats, child one thousand times raped, moulded, inebriated, your vomit, in the afternoon, on the stairs, other men waiting for you at the bar and stroking a gleaming bottie, their gaze fixed between your thighs, child fed with sperm, your underpants are drying on a clothes line, above the dozing boys, mixed all naked on the sheet\ldots +I bring him against me, I hug him against me, he slavers on my cheek. Now I will put on my pilgrim's robe, he gets up by my side, his hardened cock against my thigh ; under his nails, the smell of sperm ; head tilted back, hair flowing on my wrists, mouth half-opened, where did you learn how to make love so well~? --- Since I'm born, all raped me under the blue sun, they knocked me down on earth made colourless by means of so much light, my back, my belly against the dying flies, their cock penetrates as far as my heart, when they withdraw it, my belly burns ; the flies, piled up on the shit, in the cesspools, above us, shoot out, satiated, of the darkness and come down on our intertwined bodies, they vibrate, scream, drawn by the smell of sperm ; my prince knocked down under me your words lifting my chest, your wrath under my knees, sealed one to another, and the wind racing from the plain's end and blackening the wheats, child one thousand times raped, moulded, inebriated, your vomit, in the afternoon, on the stairs, other men waiting for you at the bar and stroking a gleaming bottle, their gaze fixed between your thighs, child fed with sperm, your underpants are drying on a clothes line, above the dozing boys, mixed all naked on the sheet\ldots} The soldiers beat off the rebels beyond the walls, sergeants order fire, the soldiers fire in the trees, the sergeants call the general ; straightening himself up, phone in hand, comes closer to the kitchen door ; the rebels flee in the streets of the upper city ; the little castrati are moaning by the orangery door ; near the pond, the rebel and the soldier are stroking the young girl's breast : \speech{Leave now, they might see you}, the soldier pushes the rebel back, the young girl's hand settles on the rebel's thigh ; the sentries burst out laughing, from the top of the walls~: @@ -2566,7 +2571,7 @@ The soldier's hands brush the young girl's cunt, fresh blood flows between the t He wipes his fingers on the shreds of her dress, he gets up again, he parts the boxtrees, he jumps into the path, behind the sergeants, runs towards the wall, crouches, lies down on the earth, groans, holds out his arms, the sergeants look back~: ---- Tear, eat, filthy God, Virgin, your poisoned waters\ldots\ all the soldiers\ldots\ Part, bite, devour, Aurelio, I never prayed. Saint Francis and his bloody mice paws. At night I didn't pray ; all the soldiers undress me, I lay the crucifix between my thighs, the soldier spits on it, his saliva mixes with my liquids, with the tears of my little mouth, caressed, touched, by your fingers, bitten by your teeth, your tongue penetrates, lifts the lips of my little mouth, your nostrils tucked up on the mop of hair, your eyes, your lashes brush my belly ; Christ's head between your lips and my little pleasure mouth, ivory head and black wood, fianc\'{e} of Christ, lips of Christ, hard and cold on my little mouth. Arouse him, my soldier\ldots +--- Tear, eat, filthy God, Virgin, your poisoned waters\ldots\ all the soldiers\ldots\ Part, bite, devour, Aurelio, I never prayed. Saint Francis and his bloody mice paws. At night I didn't pray ; all the soldiers undress me, I lay the crucifix between my thighs, the soldier spits on it, his saliva mixes with my liquids, with the tears of my little mouth, caressed, touched, by your fingers, bitten by your teeth, your tongue penetrates, lifts the lips of my little mouth, your nostrils tucked up on the mop of hair, your eyes, your lashes brush my belly ; Christ's head between your lips and my little pleasure mouth, ivory head and black wood, fianc\'ee of Christ, lips of Christ, hard and cold on my little mouth. Arouse him, my soldier\ldots She laughs, her feet beat the ground, the sergeants part the boxtrees, she writhes, crucified, legs bare, spread apart, blood sparkles on her knees ; the sergeants come closer, bend down, her hand rises, catches a pistol, and brings it over her forehead : \speech{God almighty, grab that pistol from her, her body's still warm\ldots} @@ -2610,13 +2615,13 @@ At the shutters, the hands and the voices of the sentries~: Illiten is crouching in the moonlight ; the German unties his hand from the shutters and comes back to sit on the desk, Illiten lets his bound hands rest on his knees, the German caresses his back with the rifle butt~: ---- You heard what they said ? Shit, what's wrong with all of you~? +--- You heard what they said~? Shit, what's wrong with all of you~? The butt moves upwards under the chin~: ---- Can't you remain lousy like every one ? We don't hide the sun from you, we don't forbid you to fuck. Water, we can't take it away from you, there ain't any. +--- Can't you remain lousy like every one~? We don't hide the sun from you, we don't forbid you to fuck. Water, we can't take it away from you, there ain't any. -All of the soldiers live, at home, like foxes, they beat their women, like you do, they're dirty, they fuck on the table or on the manure, they have a calendar on their window siil, they make bad wheat, well, they shut up. Look at me, I don't wish to be no general\ldots +All of the soldiers live, at home, like foxes, they beat their women, like you do, they're dirty, they fuck on the table or on the manure, they have a calendar on their window sill, they make bad wheat, well, they shut up. Look at me, I don't wish to be no general\ldots At my place it was clean, it was beautiful the hay, the wheat, the animals, one could touch all that without getting dirty. @@ -2630,13 +2635,13 @@ Illiten looks up, towards the soldier ; Illiten lays his head in his bound hands, the soldier jumps on the floor, climbs on the platform, takes the chalk, crushes it against the blackboard. -Illiten, Illiten, help, help, the sun weighs on my eyelids, rises in flames along my legs, I dash forward, I brush aside the boxtrees, help Illiten, help, I crouch down, I lift the trap, Bachier screams, his shoulders roll in the white sand, I catch hold of the trap's teeth, I push them apart, the leg is bleeding, it slides on my arm, Bachir throws himself against me, he's crying ; in front of us, a small plain of white sand, the wired nettings of a tennis court shaken by the sea wind and, ona little hill, a large white villa half-covered by the bougainvillea's red leaves : now, they set traps, when they saw me captured, they ran to the boxtrees, their rackets in hand --- I rub the wound with hot sand --- she shouted : \said{Oh Sosselo, look at the little nigger}, her legs bare under the short tennis skirt, quiver above my head, the racket pressed against her breast, I throw myself forward, I bite her legs, she shouts : \said{Oh Sosselo, he bit me, kill him} ; she laughs, he turns away to laugh, she touched the trap, she makes it move around my wound, I bite my fingers not to scream : \said{Leave him, little sister, they'll come to fetch him when night falls.} +Illiten, Illiten, help, help, the sun weighs on my eyelids, rises in flames along my legs, I dash forward, I brush aside the boxtrees, help Illiten, help, I crouch down, I lift the trap, Bachir screams, his shoulders roll in the white sand, I catch hold of the trap's teeth, I push them apart, the leg is bleeding, it slides on my arm, Bachir throws himself against me, he's crying ; in front of us, a small plain of white sand, the wired nettings of a tennis court shaken by the sea wind and, on a little hill, a large white villa half-covered by the bougainvillea's red leaves : now, they set traps, when they saw me captured, they ran to the boxtrees, their rackets in hand --- I rub the wound with hot sand --- she shouted : \speech{Oh Sosselo, look at the little nigger}, her legs bare under the short tennis skirt, quiver above my head, the racket pressed against her breast, I throw myself forward, I bite her legs, she shouts : \speech{Oh Sosselo, he bit me, kill him} ; she laughs, he turns away to laugh, she touched the trap, she makes it move around my wound, I bite my fingers not to scream : \speech{Leave him, little sister, they'll come to fetch him when night falls.} --- You'll put traps everywhere, Sosselo, we'll watch from the window~? They go back to the tennis court, the ball strikes my temples, blood spurts, moves along my leg like a slug, dries on my skin like ants. -Illiten, Illiten, his tears caress my lips, his little body trembles in my arms, they're playing inside the wire nettings, why did you come in ? There was a piece of bread inside the boxtree bushes ; get up, they took mummy away\ldots\ I'll grow up, I'll rebel, I'll free you all, I rise, my hand under his arms, the wound on his leg sparkles sand and blood I'll avenge you\ldots\ I'll enter the city\ldots\ I'll take revenge\ldots\ my dagger rings on the city's fountains\ldots +Illiten, Illiten, his tears caress my lips, his little body trembles in my arms, they're playing inside the wire nettings, why did you come in~? There was a piece of bread inside the boxtree bushes ; get up, they took mummy away\ldots\ I'll grow up, I'll rebel, I'll free you all, I rise, my hand under his arms, the wound on his leg sparkles sand and blood I'll avenge you\ldots\ I'll enter the city\ldots\ I'll take revenge\ldots\ my dagger rings on the city's fountains\ldots I'll burn the wheat sowed in slavery\ldots\ I promise you nothing but ashes, but you'll sweep them as free men\ldots\ I'll take revenge\ldots\ I'll enter the city, he's eating the wheat, next to me, lying on the mud floor, mummy will be back tomorrow morning, the soldiers said so, one of them stroked my cheek, a caress from a soldier is worth the tongue of a cobra, the little ones, at the end of the hut, are splitting their sides laughing ; they loll back on the rags, the birds chirp under the roof and outside, around the rubbish piles. @@ -2668,7 +2673,7 @@ Illiten shakes his head, the soldier lays his hand on his weapon ; the little bi \ldots\ the little birds jump on the sand, the grey sea runs along the beach, like large wings of early morning birds, my father's hand grips my fingers ; in the semi-darkness of dawn, half buried in the sand, white bones of dead men or animals, fishbones, seaweed, teeth hypnotize me, cut my feet, my nails strike the pebbles, the buried rocks ; my father's breath, mixed to that of the waves, I want to follow it but I'm short-winded ; my father waits for me, leaning on the casemate's wall ; in his arms, my mouth biting the buckle of his belt, my tears wetting the cloth, on his belly : \speech{They took mummy\ldots\ I covered her\ldots\ I held her up on the way\ldots} -I feel his cock softening under the cloth, his hands are shaking on my hips ; a barbed wire moans above the casemate, amidst the grass bleached by sait ; a great black cloud rises, freeing the horizon and the sun shoots out over the sea, a warship sparkles, its turrets move gently, cast'wide shadows on the sea~: +I feel his cock softening under the cloth, his hands are shaking on my hips ; a barbed wire moans above the casemate, amidst the grass bleached by salt ; a great black cloud rises, freeing the horizon and the sun shoots out over the sea, a warship sparkles, its turrets move gently, cast wide shadows on the sea~: --- From here will set off the revolution,\ldots\ from here will set off the revolution\ldots @@ -2676,7 +2681,7 @@ Huge wet birds pass above our heads ; between two breaths of the sea, I hear the I take the knife, I break loose from my father ; the sand cloud hides both the knife and my hand ; the child sees my outstretched arm, his face comes closer, smiling, vibrating with screams and seagulls taking flight ; the knife touches his belly, slips on the shirt's fabric, brushes the sand-covered skin, the tip of the knife catches the navel's roll of fat, scrapes the sweat but the child smiles, he speaks~: ---- You have nails like claws\ldots\ Is it true that you're hungry ?\ldots\ you eat raw things ?\ldots\ That's why you have animals' nails~? +--- You have nails like claws\ldots\ Is it true that you're hungry~?\ldots\ you eat raw things~?\ldots\ That's why you have animals' nails~? But he shows the whites of his eyes, his lips turn livid, his lashes fall back on his bleached eyes, my hand clutches the haft of the knife, he's trembling like an arrow, from the wound spurts, not blood but milk, on my fingers ; the head leans over the sand cloud ; the milk, warm and light, runs on my knee ; my father and I carry the white child's body to the top of the casemate ; I throw the milk-spattered knife, in the swaying, cobweb-like grass ; my father, bending over the child, is stroking his belly, I pull off the grass blades around the child's head, I give them to my father, he lays them on the wound ; under the grass, the torn navel throws up a bit of milk ; the noise of the harrows and above it, the working men's shouts, move upwards along the dunes ; the workers' heads appear, laughing, shiny, bright~: @@ -2694,7 +2699,7 @@ Illiten looks up, the soldier is now crouching, his hands flat on the thighs, hi Both weapons hanging on his right shoulder, Illiten climbs on the wall and jumps on the road ; with its roofs of hides and corrugated iron lifted by the wind, the lower district looks like a huge rubbish dump, or the carapace of some gigantic beast lying there in full sloughing ; Illiten propping himself with one hand on a wet granite slab, jumps into a small courtyard where dogs are fighting for a piece of meat ; through the window hole, he sees intermingled bodies quivering in the dust, arms, thighs, cheeks shining with sweat and filth ; the dogs, mouth soiled, jump in through that window and smell out those unconstrained bodies, then they leap back again into the small courtyard and drink from a bucket of foul water, their tongue smacks inside the old wood ; at the end of the room, Illiten sees a woman whose eyes are open and the dress tucked up to the knees, he smiles ; a movement she makes to get up awakens the scents of rot and skin ; shreds of cloth, of fabric, hang from the roof, moon shines through the reed hurdle, a rat runs on the corrugated iron ; the children, moved in their dreams or by the rat's passage, or by Illiten's gaze, stir, and moan, the foot of one crushing the eyelashes of another, and their belly quivering, bathed in steam and moonlight, trodden by nameless insects --- cockroaches are caught between the toes. -The dogs bump into Illiten's knees ; he steps over the window sill, the children's bodies, he goes towards the woman, squats down, bends over her ; he sees her bare breasts rise towards her chin, the sweat, the drops of sweat run from one to another, on the necklace ; the woman's hand rises, takes Illiten's neck, draws the head towards her face ; Illiten feels on his cheek then on his lips the painted mouth of his mother, he shuts his eyes ; dogs' growls, children's yelps, the rat runs on the corrugated iron : \said{Every night he speaks to me, he waits for me like a husband.} The rat slips into the reed hurdle, it touches the shreds of cloth and fabric : \speech{Every night he comes to smell, touch his children's and his wife's clothes, like a good husband, then he leaves happy, reassured\ldots} +The dogs bump into Illiten's knees ; he steps over the window sill, the children's bodies, he goes towards the woman, squats down, bends over her ; he sees her bare breasts rise towards her chin, the sweat, the drops of sweat run from one to another, on the necklace ; the woman's hand rises, takes Illiten's neck, draws the head towards her face ; Illiten feels on his cheek then on his lips the painted mouth of his mother, he shuts his eyes ; dogs' growls, children's yelps, the rat runs on the corrugated iron : \speech{Every night he speaks to me, he waits for me like a husband.} The rat slips into the reed hurdle, it touches the shreds of cloth and fabric : \speech{Every night he comes to smell, touch his children's and his wife's clothes, like a good husband, then he leaves happy, reassured\ldots} Illiten kisses his mother's eyelashes~: @@ -2713,7 +2718,7 @@ Illiten gets up again, steps over his brothers' bodies, then the window ; the li The child in the sludge looks back, the amphibians are moving towards him, he leaps, staggers, the sludge pulls him back, the headlights warm up his back and his loins, the soldiers laugh, the child falls head in the sludge ; the driver is pushed against his wheel by his comrades, one of them presses down his camouflaged cap over his eyes, the soldier struggles, shouts : \speech{Bastards, I don't want to run over him, I don't want to run over him\ldots}, the truck speeds up, a track catches the child, the soldiers knock on the window, tickle the driver under the armpits, on the neck, on the throat, the driver splits his sides laughing, sobs, his forehead bangs into the windscreen, the truck enters the river, the driver brakes, stops his vehicle, shakes his head. The soldiers jump off the truck, the child, crushed, head caught in the track and legs shattered dragging on the sludge, the soldiers, suddenly frozen watch him in silence, hand on the rifle strap. -The officer gets out of his jeep, comes forward, sees the dead body : \speech{It's you who did this~?} touches it, strokes the crushed head : \said{But why was he on the river bank}\ldots\ blows on the face : \said{Bastards~!} he walks along the truck, stands in front of the cabin, the driver, his hands on the wheel, his head in his arm, weeps, slobbers, snuffles~: +The officer gets out of his jeep, comes forward, sees the dead body : \speech{It's you who did this~?} touches it, strokes the crushed head : \speech{But why was he on the river bank}\ldots\ blows on the face : \speech{Bastards~!} he walks along the truck, stands in front of the cabin, the driver, his hands on the wheel, his head in his arm, weeps, slobbers, snuffles~: --- It's you who were driving~? @@ -2734,11 +2739,11 @@ He takes the driver's rifle from the seat and strikes in the loins with the butt --- Pull the child clear. Wrap him in my tent canvas and carry him to my jeep ; I keep him, you still might want to rape him, you savages~! % TODO -\noindent The soldiers pull the child out of the tracks, stretch out a large fresh canvas, lay the body inside, a warrant officer bends over the driver, gets him on his feet.again, pushes him with his back against the truck's door, slaps him on both cheeks ; the soldier opens his eyes, his hands move down along his battledress soiled with sludge and blood ; the warrant officer pushes him on the seat and grabs the steering wheel~: +The soldiers pull the child out of the tracks, stretch out a large fresh canvas, lay the body inside, a warrant officer bends over the driver, gets him on his feet.again, pushes him with his back against the truck's door, slaps him on both cheeks ; the soldier opens his eyes, his hands move down along his battledress soiled with sludge and blood ; the warrant officer pushes him on the seat and grabs the steering wheel~: --- Stop shaking. It's just one less of them. -The convoy starts off again, sinks into the river : \said{Better kill them young.} +The convoy starts off again, sinks into the river : \speech{Better kill them young.} \secbreak @@ -2776,11 +2781,11 @@ The general kisses the cardinal's ring~: --- Good night, your Eminence. I'm going to my pleasures. -Held up by his nurse --- she appears only in the evening at the time of going to bed --- the cardinal walks up to his oratory, from where he can see the service and the nuns lying on the paving, the youngest ones flattened on the ground, the old ones bending over. A light breeze, coming from the sacristy, lifts the saltpetre dust along the moonbeams : \said{My Lord God, my Lord God, give me my little death.} +Held up by his nurse --- she appears only in the evening at the time of going to bed --- the cardinal walks up to his oratory, from where he can see the service and the nuns lying on the paving, the youngest ones flattened on the ground, the old ones bending over. A light breeze, coming from the sacristy, lifts the saltpetre dust along the moonbeams : \speech{My Lord God, my Lord God, give me my little death.} The general pushes the kitchen door, the waiters and the cooks are sleeping in the two alcoves adjoining the butchery room ; the general walks along the kitchen ranges, his fingers stroke the copperware, the balustrade on which the waiters' bellies have been leaning all day, the general leans there in his turn ; on a bench are laid the aprons, the general leaves the balustrade, touches the aprons, makes the straps slip through his fingers, caresses the damp and greasy cloth, he takes an apron, flattens it against his belly and chest, thrusting his hands between his thighs with the cloth ; he stretches it on the hips and turns back, head leaning on the shoulder to watch the stretched cloth and the folds it makes on the hips and the string tied on the buttocks ; the general unbuttons the top of his uniform ; he hears a noise in the alcove, the bamboo screen undulates, the general sees a foot through the slits, he puts on the apron, goes in front of the alcove ; the foot moves up along the screen, a bed cracks in the warm darkness : \speech{I'm all alone, the others are on guard\ldots} The general draws his hand over his heart, he feels a lump in his throat ; that voice of child in bed, the sweat between the nose and the lips, the unshaved chin pricking the throat\ldots\ The general lifts the screen, the boy, the one of the butcher's stall, is lying on the bottom paillasse of the bunks, naked, legs spread and dragging on both sides of the paillasse, the lower abdomen and the root of the thighs covered by a film magazine with stuck pages and bearing suspicious stains ; the belly throbs, the breathing hollows the belly and raises the chest ; he sees the general come in, he sees the apron, the general smiles, the boy opens his eyes wide, the general comes closer to the bed, squats down, the boy doesn't move, doesn't smile, the general bends over him, blows on his face, the boy closes his eyes, his nostrils pucker up, the general blows on the throat, on the chest, on the navel, he watches the boy, continues blowing on the lower abdomen, the boy begins smiling, the general moves his hand forward, touches the boy's belly, the navel, the boy bursts out laughing, the general's hand moves up along the belly, stops at the hollow of the ribs, presses on the bone~: ---- There, does it hurt ? and there ? and here ? and there~? +--- There, does it hurt~? and there~? and here~? and there~? --- It's lower down that it hurts, commander. @@ -2825,7 +2830,7 @@ He holds open his mouth, at the bottom of which the tongue is beating, the gener --- I desired you, the little dogs, the little cats, along the villages, which I stroked from my jeep, you, you, your cock erect inside the greasy shorts ; one Morning I see you leaning over the pond, behind the garages, your washing hangs from a branch, a piece of mirror is laid on the pipe above the pond, I walk towards the pond, all I see is your hips leaning on the pond's edge, your buttocks hugged by the shorts, my hands open, round out, I want to scream, tear off this uniform, these bands ; I come closer to you, you plunge your head in the rust-coloured water, you spit, your back, your loins smell of bed bugs, my hand brushes a fold of the shorts between your buttocks, you give a start, you stand up straight again, you see me, you guess me, you stand at attention, your wet hands rolling up your shorts' hem, your cheeks becoming covered with water\ldots ---- What are you doing ? You're not at work ? You look at yourself in the mirror ? You like to look attractive ?\ldots\ Blades of straw are shining under your chest. +--- What are you doing~? You're not at work~? You look at yourself in the mirror~? You like to look attractive~?\ldots\ Blades of straw are shining under your chest. --- I was on guard tonight, general. @@ -2837,9 +2842,9 @@ He holds open his mouth, at the bottom of which the tongue is beating, the gener --- Commander, I'm going to stain your trousers\ldots ---- In the evening I summon you to my office, back from the range, you enter with your battledress covered with green slime. \speech{Come in front of the desk. That's it. Lean against the desk. That's it. Strongly. Sit on the desk. That's it. Turn your back to me. You have a frog on your pocket. Don't move. I'll catch it. You like animals ? As for me, I love little dogs in heat, come you little frog, the soldier will crush you with his heavy hips\ldots} +--- In the evening I summon you to my office, back from the range, you enter with your battledress covered with green slime. \speech{Come in front of the desk. That's it. Lean against the desk. That's it. Strongly. Sit on the desk. That's it. Turn your back to me. You have a frog on your pocket. Don't move. I'll catch it. You like animals~? As for me, I love little dogs in heat, come you little frog, the soldier will crush you with his heavy hips\ldots} -I catch the frog from your pocket ; it escapes and leaps onto your thigh, I stretch out my arm over the table, my hand brushes your thigh, the frog leaps further, onto the penis, my hand leaps and pounces on the frog, my fingers close on the fold of the cloth, where the frog is caught, a little laugh, sounding like a sob, rises from the bottom of your throat, the frog is throbbing under my hand, dribble comes out through my phalanxes ; I lay the frog on the table, I lean back in my armchair, with your back to me, you continue to giggle, I can see your shoulders shake. Turn round. The frog leaps on the ink stand, on the coloured pencils, they roll under it, facing me you watch it still laughing, hands rolling your beret before your thighs. The frog leaps again on the edge of the table, and at one bound here it is again stuck to your thighs : \said{She's really bent on it.} +I catch the frog from your pocket ; it escapes and leaps onto your thigh, I stretch out my arm over the table, my hand brushes your thigh, the frog leaps further, onto the penis, my hand leaps and pounces on the frog, my fingers close on the fold of the cloth, where the frog is caught, a little laugh, sounding like a sob, rises from the bottom of your throat, the frog is throbbing under my hand, dribble comes out through my phalanxes ; I lay the frog on the table, I lean back in my armchair, with your back to me, you continue to giggle, I can see your shoulders shake. Turn round. The frog leaps on the ink stand, on the coloured pencils, they roll under it, facing me you watch it still laughing, hands rolling your beret before your thighs. The frog leaps again on the edge of the table, and at one bound here it is again stuck to your thighs : \speech{She's really bent on it.} --- It felt a spring, general. @@ -2855,7 +2860,7 @@ I catch the frog from your pocket ; it escapes and leaps onto your thigh, I stre --- Heavy, thick like milk, then very fluid after it has been running for a long time. ---- And when can one drink it ? At what time is its fragrance the sweetest~? +--- And when can one drink it~? At what time is its fragrance the sweetest~? --- At noon or after sunset. @@ -2867,7 +2872,7 @@ I catch the frog from your pocket ; it escapes and leaps onto your thigh, I stre --- It sprouts up by itself as soon as it hears footsteps, and as lips come close to its bed. ---- But what if neither those footsteps nor those lips appeal to it ?\ldots +--- But what if neither those footsteps nor those lips appeal to it~?\ldots --- Then, it remains asleep\ldots @@ -2889,7 +2894,7 @@ The general lifts the matting, opens the door, bends, goes down, as far as the m Pino turns over groaning, hides his cock with his hands, his buttocks turn on the sleeping bag~: ---- Hey~! can you lend me your shoes for the night ? Mine hurt. +--- Hey~! can you lend me your shoes for the night~? Mine hurt. --- Take them but go put them on in the guardroom, your feet they stink too much. @@ -2899,7 +2904,7 @@ The soldier puts his finger on his cock. % TODO -\noindent --- We know you wank the general off, you've got it in your blood like the whores. +--- We know you wank the general off, you've got it in your blood like the whores. --- First, the general he doesn't touch me, secondly you're jealous because all the women they crave for me, and when they see you naked, they give up ; I don't have to go look for them, they don't make me pay. You, all you get is bleary-eyed tarts, instead of your bollocks it's your pockets they clear out and they give you the clap. @@ -2917,7 +2922,7 @@ The aroused sentry rubs the buttocks, the hips and the edge of the belly, Pino b Pino groans, writhes on the straw mattress, hand covering his cock. -The general comes out of the stairs, comes te crouch in front of the mattress~: +The general comes out of the stairs, comes to crouch in front of the mattress~: --- He tried to break my dick, they're all jealous, at night they will grab it and smash it. @@ -2935,7 +2940,7 @@ Pino draws his buttocks suddenly upwards, they strike and lift the general's chi % TODO volte-face~? -Pino, now, is groaning, his cock hardens in the extreme, and stretches the skin all around, belly, thighs, balls ; then he turns back towards the general squatting and still burrowing, face veiled by sweat and heat from the boy's body, he lies flat, folds back one leg on the other, and flings his arms around the general's neck ; he, his hands again surprised and deprived by the boy's volte-face, lets himself be hugged, then at the contact of the boy's wet hands and arms, he loses his head, a lump in his throat, he weighs on the boy, who spreads his legs as the general lies over him, all dressed, girded by the apron ; the boy's cock becomes tangled in the apron's front pocket ; +{\sloppy Pino, now, is groaning, his cock hardens in the extreme, and stretches the skin all around, belly, thighs, balls ; then he turns back towards the general squatting and still burrowing, face veiled by sweat and heat from the boy's body, he lies flat, folds back one leg on the other, and flings his arms around the general's neck ; he, his hands again surprised and deprived by the boy's volte-face, lets himself be hugged, then at the contact of the boy's wet hands and arms, he loses his head, a lump in his throat, he weighs on the boy, who spreads his legs as the general lies over him, all dressed, girded by the apron ; the boy's cock becomes tangled in the apron's front pocket ; \par} --- Commander, the round is about to pass ; couldn't you wait till tomorrow morning~? @@ -2949,7 +2954,7 @@ Pino, now, is groaning, his cock hardens in the extreme, and stretches the skin --- My puppy with a little red cock. ---- Little ? That's not your opinion when you have it in the mouth or up your ass\ldots +--- Little~? That's not your opinion when you have it in the mouth or up your ass\ldots --- Don't be rude. @@ -2975,7 +2980,7 @@ The general gives a start, he rises again, his cock taut enough to tear the skin --- He's afraid he might catch cold~? -A soldier comes running into the alcove, he's holding a telephoned message, the officer takes it : \said{Illiten has escaped. Find the general. The general's colonel aide-de-camp.} +A soldier comes running into the alcove, he's holding a telephoned message, the officer takes it : \speech{Illiten has escaped. Find the general. The general's colonel aide-de-camp.} The lieutenant puts the message in his pocket. @@ -2989,13 +2994,13 @@ The general, leaning against the wall, in the shade, is waiting for the boy~: --- Take these five thousand Francs. -Pino grabs the money, slips it inside his underpants, moves a hand towards the general's thighs, with the other he unties the apron's string on his loins, the apron falls at the general's feet, Pino's hand strokes the general's hip, moves up towards the swordbelt, envelops the buckle, two fingers unfasten it, against the boy's palm the general's belly is trembling, the belt falls back on each side of the cock, over the thighs, the boy looks up at the young general's face, his eyes, steel blue, throw out sparks with a smell of almonds under the fair close- cropped hair ; the lips hard, fat but drawn and pale like the lips of beautiful women, are shining, wet with sweat and desire. The boy smiles, looks down, his hand unbuttons the general's trousers ; the general grows tense against the wall, the boy opens his unfastening fingers, feels the general's cock grow hard, hot, red under the underpants, the unbuttoned trousers slide down to the knees ; the boy takes in both hands the cock through the underpants' cloth, he presses it, one hand moves down under the cock, then upwards between the buttocks to the hem of the underpants. The wrist catches the humidity of the cock ; the hand clings to the underpants, at the place of the elastic, pulls it down, while the other hand, enveloping the cock, uncovers it by making the underpants slide on the hips ; little by little the cock appears, the boy moves his mouth closer, sets his lips on the locks, the cock comes up through the cloth, at one go the boy makes the underpants fall, the cock springs up against his nostrils, soft, sinewy, swollen with sperm ; the boy bites it, takes it with his fingers and puts it in his mouth ; his other hand caresses, kneads the testicles, tickles the lower part of the buttocks ; keeping the cock in his mouth, he wanks it softly then, when he feels the sperm rising, he takes the cock out of his mouth presses it against his cheek, kisses it, crushes it against his forehead then, rising slightly rubs his throat and his chest against it ; the general sighs heavily, pulls the boy's hair, gasps, his legs taut. +Pino grabs the money, slips it inside his underpants, moves a hand towards the general's thighs, with the other he unties the apron's string on his loins, the apron falls at the general's feet, Pino's hand strokes the general's hip, moves up towards the swordbelt, envelops the buckle, two fingers unfasten it, against the boy's palm the general's belly is trembling, the belt falls back on each side of the cock, over the thighs, the boy looks up at the young general's face, his eyes, steel blue, throw out sparks with a smell of almonds under the fair close-cropped hair ; the lips hard, fat but drawn and pale like the lips of beautiful women, are shining, wet with sweat and desire. The boy smiles, looks down, his hand unbuttons the general's trousers ; the general grows tense against the wall, the boy opens his unfastening fingers, feels the general's cock grow hard, hot, red under the underpants, the unbuttoned trousers slide down to the knees ; the boy takes in both hands the cock through the underpants' cloth, he presses it, one hand moves down under the cock, then upwards between the buttocks to the hem of the underpants. The wrist catches the humidity of the cock ; the hand clings to the underpants, at the place of the elastic, pulls it down, while the other hand, enveloping the cock, uncovers it by making the underpants slide on the hips ; little by little the cock appears, the boy moves his mouth closer, sets his lips on the locks, the cock comes up through the cloth, at one go the boy makes the underpants fall, the cock springs up against his nostrils, soft, sinewy, swollen with sperm ; the boy bites it, takes it with his fingers and puts it in his mouth ; his other hand caresses, kneads the testicles, tickles the lower part of the buttocks ; keeping the cock in his mouth, he wanks it softly then, when he feels the sperm rising, he takes the cock out of his mouth presses it against his cheek, kisses it, crushes it against his forehead then, rising slightly rubs his throat and his chest against it ; the general sighs heavily, pulls the boy's hair, gasps, his legs taut. An owl, come through the basement window, hits the vault and the hanging pantries, it swoops down on the general's bare belly ; sperm gushes out on the boy's face, spatters his cheeks, his nostrils, his eyelids ; the boy opens his mouth, puts in the tip of the cock ; the sperm still squirts out in his mouth, runs between his teeth, under the tongue ; heavy, warm like blood ; the boy presses the cock, lays his hands flat on the front of the general's thighs ; with the sucking movement he makes while sniffing, his fingers sink into the general's thighs, draw the buttocks' skin over the hips, his cheeks swell then fall in, the sucked up sperm becomes more fluid, more warm ; the last filaments draw sighs from the general ; the boy now sucks emptiness, his lips whistle, burst ; he takes the cock out of his mouth, licks his lips, his tongue moves up to the nostrils ; he puts the general's cock back in the underpants, the cloth becomes wet where the tip of the cock bears, softened, it mingles with the testicles under the pressure of the cloth. The boy pulls the general's trousers up, buttons them, fastens the belt, the general stirs, he can feel between his thighs, under his buttocks, the mass of the cock and the secretion balls, the small locks stuck to the membranes, to the veins, by the sperm and the seminal sweat ; the tip of the cock itches slightly, the boy, with his hands, wipes the sperm off his face ; after he licks his hands, his fingers slide between his lips, the general sees his throat shining in the half light, when he swallows his saliva, mixed with sperm ; watching him swallow, eat his sperm that way, the general gets another hard-on ; the boy notices it, he walks up the small staircase, he opens the door ; the light from the alcove, veiled by the matting, illuminates the outlines of his body, shoulders, cheeks, hips, thighs, knees, the distending of his belly and the little shadow of the navel, the folds of the underpants ; the boy spreads his legs, puts his hands cone-shaped around his cock, thumbs driven under the underpants' elastic, he pushes his belly, navel forward, stretches his shoulders, tilts his head back, hollows, distends his belly, makes the underpants' elastic crack against the lower part of his belly covered with curly hair, weighs his cock in his hand, laughs gently, arches his back, strokes his hips and buttocks, pulls his underpants down on his thighs, half uncovers his cock, fondles it, holds it up, fingers stretching the cloth below and shaking the testicles~: ---- Demon, demon, infamous one, how can you live with impure hands, soiled lips ? Women who love you know you're a whore, see the marks of love and fury made on you by men. +--- Demon, demon, infamous one, how can you live with impure hands, soiled lips~? Women who love you know you're a whore, see the marks of love and fury made on you by men. --- I have known only cruel caresses or tender cruelties. He who wants to love me will strangle me, he who wants to strangle me, loves me. @@ -3049,7 +3054,7 @@ He sets his lips on the boy's, who starts dribbling ; saliva foams, the general The boy's saliva wets the mattress, making the straw come into sight~: ---- When do you want your next leave ? I'm leaving too. On the ship you'll come to my cabin. Here I cannot love you. +--- When do you want your next leave~? I'm leaving too. On the ship you'll come to my cabin. Here I cannot love you. --- At the far end of the Engines' courtyard, there's a deserted toilet\ldots @@ -3079,7 +3084,7 @@ The boy looks down, the general strokes the cock, hard and warm, the boy suddenl --- Child, child, go and get me a bit of water. -The boy pushes the alcove door, he pulls a pot of boiling water from the middle of the kitchen range, takes a ladle, fills it and carries it to the alcove ; he pours the boiling water over the uniform, the general pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, dips it in the ladle and rubs his epaulettes. +The boy pushes the alcove door, he pulls a pot of boiling water from the middle of the kitchen range, takes a ladle, fills it and carries it to the alcove ; he pours the boiling water over the uniform, the general pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, dips it in the ladle and rubs his epaulets. The boy lays the empty ladle on the bed. @@ -3149,7 +3154,7 @@ The soldiers throw their clothes on the ground. The soldiers remove their berets, some their light helmets. The general orders the other soldiers to break ranks. The captain goes back to his room, washes, shaves and lies down on his bed. The general retires to his office. sends his secretaries away and goes to stand by the window from where he can see the courtyard and the undressed soldiers ; he takes his binoculars and watches the bare torsos on which the ribs create desirable shadows, the bellies hollowed by hunger ; he knows that his aide-de-camp, his secretaries, leaning at the door are watching him love and desire : a soldier walks across the courtyard, stops in front of the punished soldiers, sticks out his tongue at them ; the general recognizes Pino by his soiled battledress, his plastered down hair, the underwear hanging on his shoulder, the piece of ice cream sticking out of his pocket, on the hips. -He feels again like stroking that humid and wiry body, throwing away medals, rank, title, and following him, appointing him his lieutenant of pleasures, commander and recruiter of boys, and wallowing in public debauchery, he a general, showing, exposing himself, leaning against his brothel's door, the boy inside corrupting and raping boys either younger or older than him. And he, the general, imposing a virile and cruel debauchery, creating orders, preferences, rewards, calculating, measuring the duration of pleasure, and the quantity of released sperm, offering his boys to the mad passions of men and women passing by, hastening their choice by the brutal capture of a dozing boy and the confession of his speciality ; whipping the boys, forcing the youngest ones to do the housework : wash the dirty tiled and wooden floors, change the sheets between two embraces, etc., forbidding to hug and soil those children, but putting them every night in his own bed and laying those he finds squatting and swilling down the floor, lifting their apron, unbuttoning their shorts or pulling their underpants, and knocking them down, legs spread apart like little dogs, forcing customers short of cash to be content with the latrine's cement floor when buggering and soiling the boys, chasing the sadness away from his heart and from his body, maintaining his independence and his embraces bathed in sun ; trampling the boys sleeping intermingled in the cellar staircase, in the middle of the street, after the morning's embraces ; establishing a hierarchy among the boys, sending the ones to the common hall. the others to the rooms on the first floor, submitting the former to the latter, but punishing those in the private rooms by temporary resumption of work in the common hall ; imposing to all the most complete submission to the man or woman passing by ; forcing all boys. even the youngest. to get drunk on waking. tearing away pity from their heart, tearing away their heart from their chest ; accustoming them to pleasure and cruelty ; received or given ; working out the boys recently recruited, stolen or bought. then gradually freeing them once their submission is certain, and exciting their jealousy as far as sexual performance is concerned. so as to forget the strangeness of their new gestures ; then, \speech{remembering all the beautiful and frail boys I met at afternoon teas and dinners in the parks of Inamenas, those returning from tennis with their shorts wet by sweat between the thighs, open-natured, joyful, hair-lock over the eyelashes, that one, suddenly feeling sick after dessert and leaving the table to vomit, and whom his favourite sister follows, heartens, precedes and helps to vomit, and holding him by the shoulders, the one lying on the perron, stripped to the waist and thighs bare, wearing only a faded swimsuit. legs falling each side of the balustrade, feet touching the rose bushes, warm belly brushed by my hand from afar ; the one leaning, wearing light shorts, sliding slightly on the buttocks and baring the loins between the shirt and the belt, legs covered by woollen socks with green ribbons, face against the rocking of the electric train ; procurers seducing one after another. pulling them out of their dwellings and throwing them brutally into pleasure. Pino pushing those heads. those faces, where tears of shame are still drying. between his thighs, and squeezing them : I, seeing their anguish before the first client. the sweat on their hips. when he sets his hands on that place ; their anguish then their pleasure : their look of triumph in my direction after the trial, their industriousness in following Pino's lessons and advice and little by little the sudden inspirations of their lips, of their hands by the contact with a foreign skin and in an embrace made wilder yet because of its high price ; exciting between those boys of good families jealousy and baseness, temptation of sordidness and obscene insult, exciting them, drunk, so that they betray aloud and soil their mother's voice and body ; remembering on the other hand all the wretched boys, lively, beaten, seduced already, I looking for them, capturing them and throwing them into the common hall like the small animals a child throws in a box. closing it again each time ; mixing all those boys and pushing them to fight together, setting up bloody fights between the least handsome ones, offering to men and women those battered and bloody bodies, giving them their sperm to lick and suck with the blood ; imposing a working uniform for all, those from the private rooms and those from the common hall : the swimsuit of faded cloth, with a jumper in winter. likewise faded and full of holes ; I, liking to touch, to feel those boys' cocks, through the cloth wet and viscous after a long succession of embraces, and press them and make a bit of burning hot sperm still squirt out. and with one patting on to the common hall. the others to the rooms on the first floor, submitting the former to the latter, but punishing those in the private rooms by temporary resumption of work in the common hall ; imposing to all the most complete submission to the man or woman passing by ; forcing all boys. even the youngest. to get drunk on waking. tearing away pity from their heart. tearing away their heart from their chest ; accustoming them to pleasure and cruelty ; received or given ; working out the boys recently recruited, stolen or bought. then gradually freeing them once their submission is certain. and exciting their jealousy as far as sexual performance is concerned. so as to forget the strangeness of their new gestures ; then, \speech{remembering all the beautiful and frail boys I met at afternoon teas and dinners in the parks of Inamenas, those returning from tennis with their shorts wet by sweat between the thighs. open-natured, joyful, hair-lock over the eyelashes, that one, suddenly feeling sick after dessert and leaving the table to vomit, and whom his favourite sister follows, heartens, precedes and helps to vomit, and holding him by the shoulders, the one lying on the perron, stripped to the waist and thighs bare, wearing only a faded swimsuit. legs falling each side of the balustrade, feet touching the rose bushes, warm belly brushed by my hand from afar ; the one leaning, wearing light shorts, sliding slightly on the buttocks and baring the loins between the shirt and the belt, legs covered by woollen socks with green ribbons, face against the rocking of the electric train : procurers seducing one after another. pulling them out of their dwellings and throwing them brutally into pleasure. Pino pushing those heads. those faces, where tears of shame are still drying. between his thighs, and squeezing them ; I, seeing their anguish before the first client. the sweat on their hips. when he sets his hands on that place ; their anguish then their pleasure : their look of triumph in my direction after the trial, their industriousness in following Pino's lessons and advice and little by little the sudden inspirations of their lips, of their hands by the contact with a foreign skin and in an embrace made wilder yet because of its high price ; exciting between those boys of good families jealousy and baseness. temptation of sordidness and obscene insult, exciting them, drunk, so that they betray aloud and soil their mother's voice and body : remembering on the other hand all the wretched boys, lively, beaten, seduced already. I looking for them. capturing them and throwing them into the common hall like the small animals a child throws in a box, closing it again each time ; mixing all those boys and pushing them to fight together, setting up bloody fights between the least handsome ones, offering to men and women those battered and bloody bodies, giving them their sperm to lick and suck with the blood ; imposing a working uniform for all, those from the private rooms and those from the common hall : the swimsuit of faded cloth, with a jumper in winter. likewise faded and full of holes ; I, liking to touch, to feel those boys' cocks, through the cloth wet and viscous after a long succession of embraces, and press them and make a bit of burning hot sperm still squirt out. and with one patting on the buttocks send those boys back to other customers ; I, in the stormy afternoon, dozing by the door and shivering, watching the street where the green and sulphurous shadow rises, getting hard-ons at boys passing by on the pavement, at the men stopping, at the boys beckoning, at the proposals, at the men's furtive and unpaid caresses, at the stiffening of the boys' legs, gradually soaked by rain, to the numbers shouted by their clear voices ; customers and boys already hugging each other brush me when entering, soaking wet, into the common hall ; when the customer weighs upon him, on the edge of the bench, one boy, head tilted backwards, smiles to me, makes eyes to me ; another, sitting on the lap of a docker with his shirt wide open, right near me, at a small table soiled with spittie and wine, hangs on the docker's neck and lets his head fall on my shoulder, laughing ; another, chased between the bench and the tables by a woman holding the boy's torn underpants, throws himself between my thighs ; a thunderclap makes him start, he gets up and attacks the woman, cock hurled at her ; they roll on the ground, the woman's hand drives the torn pants between the boy's buttocks ; the youngest of all the brothel's boys enters the bog at the end of the corridor with a butcher's assistant, closing the door on himself and the fat boy, leaning against the wall in the darkness, and drawing him by the hips, he waves at me ; the lock creaks, the door cracks under their embrace, an arm then a foot stretch under the door, stiffen, shake, recant, gradually re-enter the latrine, the door opens, the boy comes out, the shop assistant finishes fastening his belt, feet well set on the latrine's steps ; the boy comes back to him, climbs inside the latrine in front of him, and fastens his belt with one hand, with the other strokes the front of his thighs, then they go, clasped in each other's arms, to the middle of the common hall, and lean against the bar ; the boy holds out a glass of wine to the assistant, his hand on the glass is crumpled, humid, small locks are stuck to it, the assistant takes the glass, drinks half of it, and brutally, roaring with laughter, pours the rest into the boy's underpants, his large hand pulling the cloth. Wine wets the underpants in front and underneath, runs down the thighs as far as the knees, the boy rubs them together ; a man wearing a shirt, cap on the head, grabs the boy from behind and draws him against his thighs, the man's cock beats against the boy's buttocks, on the pants ; the boy struggles, pulls away the man's hands clinging to his hips ; the assistant takes the empty wine glass and caps the boy's cock with it ; around the glass, the wet cloth stretches ; the man slips the boy's underpants down his buttocks, the boy holds them back, the man tears them off, he drives his cock between the boy's buttocks, spreading them apart with his hands, the boy bursts out laughing, tilting his head backwards on the man's chest, his eyes flash towards me ; the assistant weighs on his belly, the boy feels the man's cock entering his body, and burn and pierce ; a bit of saliva runs at the corner of his lips, his cheeks turn pale, the head falls on the shoulder, pulling the man's half-opened shirt, and uncovering the man's breast where shines a drop of wine or blood, the boy's belly grows hollow, beats above the glass turned by the assistant on the underpants, the boy's cock swelling inside the glass, the pants torn on the hips follow the movement of the glass and wind around it ; the boy's lips become livid, they suddenly part, blood and vomit spurt out, the man gasps for breath, pushes his belly and his cock forward, the shaken boy has fainted, blood and vomit run down his chest, spatter the glass, the assistant drops the glass smashing it on the tiled floor, strikes the boy's knees with his shoes, strikes the legs, tramples the feet, the underpants slide on the thigh, on the knee ; the man hugging the boy and biting his eyes, holds back the soiled pants and draws them over the boy's cock : the boy, held back only by one of the man's hands, collapses at his feet, the man's cock, pulled out, vibrating all over, from the boy's buttocks, springs up and gets caught in the shirt ; the boy, bending at the man's feet, underpants between the thighs, woke up with the fall, he moans, the butcher's assistant treads him underfoot, tramples his belly, treads the underpants, lifts them with the end of his shoe ; the man, squatting, throws himself on the boy, turns him over on his belly, lies down over him, drives again his cock between the boy's buttocks. +He feels again like stroking that humid and wiry body, throwing away medals, rank, title, and following him, appointing him his lieutenant of pleasures, commander and recruiter of boys, and wallowing in public debauchery, he a general, showing, exposing himself, leaning against his brothel's door, the boy inside corrupting and raping boys either younger or older than him. And he, the general, imposing a virile and cruel debauchery, creating orders, preferences, rewards, calculating, measuring the duration of pleasure, and the quantity of released sperm, offering his boys to the mad passions of men and women passing by, hastening their choice by the brutal capture of a dozing boy and the confession of his specialty ; whipping the boys, forcing the youngest ones to do the housework : wash the dirty tiled and wooden floors, change the sheets between two embraces, etc., forbidding to hug and soil those children, but putting them every night in his own bed and laying those he finds squatting and swilling down the floor, lifting their apron, unbuttoning their shorts or pulling their underpants, and knocking them down, legs spread apart like little dogs, forcing customers short of cash to be content with the latrine's cement floor when buggering and soiling the boys, chasing the sadness away from his heart and from his body, maintaining his independence and his embraces bathed in sun ; trampling the boys sleeping intermingled in the cellar staircase, in the middle of the street, after the morning's embraces ; establishing a hierarchy among the boys, sending the ones to to the common hall. the others to the rooms on the first floor, submitting the former to the latter, but punishing those in the private rooms by temporary resumption of work in the common hall ; imposing to all the most complete submission to the man or woman passing by ; forcing all boys. even the youngest. to get drunk on waking. tearing away pity from their heart. tearing away their heart from their chest ; accustoming them to pleasure and cruelty ; received or given ; working out the boys recently recruited, stolen or bought. then gradually freeing them once their submission is certain. and exciting their jealousy as far as sexual performance is concerned. so as to forget the strangeness of their new gestures ; then, \speech{remembering all the beautiful and frail boys I met at afternoon teas and dinners in the parks of Inamenas, those returning from tennis with their shorts wet by sweat between the thighs. open-natured, joyful, hair-lock over the eyelashes, that one, suddenly feeling sick after dessert and leaving the table to vomit, and whom his favourite sister follows, heartens, precedes and helps to vomit, and holding him by the shoulders, the one lying on the perron, stripped to the waist and thighs bare, wearing only a faded swimsuit. legs falling each side of the balustrade, feet touching the rose bushes, warm belly brushed by my hand from afar ; the one leaning, wearing light shorts, sliding slightly on the buttocks and baring the loins between the shirt and the belt, legs covered by woolen socks with green ribbons, face against the rocking of the electric train : procurers seducing one after another. pulling them out of their dwellings and throwing them brutally into pleasure. Pino pushing those heads. those faces, where tears of shame are still drying. between his thighs, and squeezing them ; I, seeing their anguish before the first client. the sweat on their hips. when he sets his hands on that place ; their anguish then their pleasure : their look of triumph in my direction after the trial, their industriousness in following Pino's lessons and advice and little by little the sudden inspirations of their lips, of their hands by the contact with a foreign skin and in an embrace made wilder yet because of its high price ; exciting between those boys of good families jealousy and baseness. temptation of sordidness and obscene insult, exciting them, drunk, so that they betray aloud and soil their mother's voice and body : remembering on the other hand all the wretched boys, lively, beaten, seduced already. I looking for them. capturing them and throwing them into the common hall like the small animals a child throws in a box, closing it again each time ; mixing all those boys and pushing them to fight together, setting up bloody fights between the least handsome ones, offering to men and women those battered and bloody bodies, giving them their sperm to lick and suck with the blood ; imposing a working uniform for all, those from the private rooms and those from the common hall : the swimsuit of faded cloth, with a jumper in winter. likewise faded and full of holes ; I, liking to touch, to feel those boys' cocks, through the cloth wet and viscous after a long succession of embraces, and press them and make a bit of burning hot sperm still squirt out. and with one patting on the buttocks send those boys back to other customers ; I, in the stormy afternoon, dozing by the door and shivering, watching the street where the green and sulfurous shadow rises, getting hard-ons at boys passing by on the pavement, at the men stopping, at the boys beckoning, at the proposals, at the men's furtive and unpaid caresses, at the stiffening of the boys' legs, gradually soaked by rain, to the numbers shouted by their clear voices ; customers and boys already hugging each other brush me when entering, soaking wet, into the common hall ; when the customer weighs upon him, on the edge of the bench, one boy, head tilted backwards, smiles to me, makes eyes to me ; another, sitting on the lap of a docker with his shirt wide open, right near me, at a small table soiled with spittle and wine, hangs on the docker's neck and lets his head fall on my shoulder, laughing ; another, chased between the bench and the tables by a woman holding the boy's torn underpants, throws himself between my thighs ; a thunderclap makes him start, he gets up and attacks the woman, cock hurled at her ; they roll on the ground, the woman's hand drives the torn pants between the boy's buttocks ; the youngest of all the brothel's boys enters the bog at the end of the corridor with a butcher's assistant, closing the door on himself and the fat boy, leaning against the wall in the darkness, and drawing him by the hips, he waves at me ; the lock creaks, the door cracks under their embrace, an arm then a foot stretch under the door, stiffen, shake, recant, gradually re-enter the latrine, the door opens, the boy comes out, the shop assistant finishes fastening his belt, feet well set on the latrine's steps ; the boy comes back to him, climbs inside the latrine in front of him, and fastens his belt with one hand, with the other strokes the front of his thighs, then they go, clasped in each other's arms, to the middle of the common hall, and lean against the bar ; the boy holds out a glass of wine to the assistant, his hand on the glass is crumpled, humid, small locks are stuck to it, the assistant takes the glass, drinks half of it, and brutally, roaring with laughter, pours the rest into the boy's underpants, his large hand pulling the cloth. Wine wets the underpants in front and underneath, runs down the thighs as far as the knees, the boy rubs them together ; a man wearing a shirt, cap on the head, grabs the boy from behind and draws him against his thighs, the man's cock beats against the boy's buttocks, on the pants ; the boy struggles, pulls away the man's hands clinging to his hips ; the assistant takes the empty wine glass and caps the boy's cock with it ; around the glass, the wet cloth stretches ; the man slips the boy's underpants down his buttocks, the boy holds them back, the man tears them off, he drives his cock between the boy's buttocks, spreading them apart with his hands, the boy bursts out laughing, tilting his head backwards on the man's chest, his eyes flash towards me ; the assistant weighs on his belly, the boy feels the man's cock entering his body, and burn and pierce ; a bit of saliva runs at the corner of his lips, his cheeks turn pale, the head falls on the shoulder, pulling the man's half-opened shirt, and uncovering the man's breast where shines a drop of wine or blood, the boy's belly grows hollow, beats above the glass turned by the assistant on the underpants, the boy's cock swelling inside the glass, the pants torn on the hips follow the movement of the glass and wind around it ; the boy's lips become livid, they suddenly part, blood and vomit spurt out, the man gasps for breath, pushes his belly and his cock forward, the shaken boy has fainted, blood and vomit run down his chest, spatter the glass, the assistant drops the glass smashing it on the tiled floor, strikes the boy's knees with his shoes, strikes the legs, tramples the feet, the underpants slide on the thigh, on the knee ; the man hugging the boy and biting his eyes, holds back the soiled pants and draws them over the boy's cock : the boy, held back only by one of the man's hands, collapses at his feet, the man's cock, pulled out, vibrating all over, from the boy's buttocks, springs up and gets caught in the shirt ; the boy, bending at the man's feet, underpants between the thighs, woke up with the fall, he moans, the butcher's assistant treads him underfoot, tramples his belly, treads the underpants, lifts them with the end of his shoe ; the man, squatting, throws himself on the boy, turns him over on his belly, lies down over him, drives again his cock between the boy's buttocks. Outside, elephants trumpet at the far end of the zoo under the soft rain ; mahouts, half-naked, feet in the mud, push them along with their whips, under the lightnings, towards the large green tents, swollen by the wind ; a mahout, shouting, his hip gets caught in the barbed wire ; the smoke from the city rises in the rain. At my feet, enlaced, a tall sailor and a fair boy, entirely naked, roll together groaning ; the sailor's glaring white uniform, is lying with the boy's red underpants on the edge of the bench ; the sailor's open thighs on the boy's forehead, the black mop of his pubic hair mingled with the boy's fair hair, tremble with the ending spasm, the sailor's cock, fully inserted inside the mouth of the boy, who coughs, and his hands push back, lift the sailor's belly, weighing on his chin ; the sailor's sperm fills the boy's mouth, chokes him. The sailor, thrusting his head between the boy's thighs, bent like a horse's head, under the cock, growls, whinnies, spits on the testicles, the boy's cock hardens, tremendous, reddened by the morning's and the afternoon's embraces, warms the sailor's neck as far as under the ear. @@ -3157,11 +3162,11 @@ The butcher's assistant passes in front of me, he goes out of the common hall st The tiled floor shines, large trails of sperm and wine, where underpants, shirts, caps are caught, gleam as far as under the seats, in the flashes of the storm. -Children, sheathe your swords, men cover your darts, I rise over you towards the top of the closed valley, suffocated by the smell of pine trees, I run from one end of the stadium to another, the mountain grows covered with soldiers, their spears pierce the tree leaves, I'm going to die, I never changed freedoms, the dry leaves enter my throat, the soldiers nail me with their spears, on the stadium's wet sand, I who dreamed of dying strangled by a boy inside a brothel's toilet, my wounds dry in the mountain air, I die alone by the screams of the birds of Divinity and I watch my death and my descent to hell ; the Divinity does not wait until I am completely dead, to allot me a place for eternity, I die a loyal man, my senses at peace, my mind alone touched by the sun, without revolt, I who wished to die in the confusion of pleasure and despair.\gr +Children, sheathe your swords, men cover your darts, I rise over you towards the top of the closed valley, suffocated by the smell of pine trees, I run from one end of the stadium to another, the mountain grows covered with soldiers, their spears pierce the tree leaves, I'm going to die, I never changed freedoms, the dry leaves enter my throat, the soldiers nail me with their spears, on the stadium's wet sand, I who dreamed of dying strangled by a boy inside a brothel's toilet, my wounds dry in the mountain air, I die alone by the screams of the birds of Divinity and I watch my death and my descent to hell ; the Divinity does not wait until I am completely dead, to allot me a place for eternity, I die a loyal man, my senses at peace, my mind alone touched by the sun, without revolt, I who wished to die in the confusion of pleasure and despair.} The general lays his binoculars on the table, calls the radio operator~: ---- Write : \said{Urgent, secret. General Kostas Ziguris, Inamenas headquarters to general commanding continent headquarters --- captured rebel chief, escaped tonight. Officers, soldiers and myself cannot see blood any more. Bomb necessary. Awaiting new orders.} +--- Write : \speech{Urgent, secret. General Kostas Ziguris, Inamenas headquarters to general commanding continent headquarters --- captured rebel chief, escaped tonight. Officers, soldiers and myself cannot see blood any more. Bomb necessary. Awaiting new orders.} --- Send this message immediately. @@ -3175,7 +3180,7 @@ The general hears the distant rolling of the sea, the swell of the sky, the shoc ---- Send the punished soldiers to repair that line, instantly. You'll be in command. -The radio operator goes out, the general tears a eucalyptus leaf thrown in by the night wind on his table : \said{A boy's cock tears with the same leaf noise.} +The radio operator goes out, the general tears a eucalyptus leaf thrown in by the night wind on his table : \speech{A boy's cock tears with the same leaf noise.} The general summons his aide-de-camp, the colonel enters the room~: @@ -3219,7 +3224,7 @@ The colonel steps out, the general throws his legs over the table, he strokes th --- Thank you, general, but you.scared me. ---- You have a fianc\'{e}~? +--- You have a fianc\'ee~? --- Yes, general. @@ -3247,7 +3252,7 @@ The colonel steps out, the general throws his legs over the table, he strokes th --- General, I shall leave, if you allow me. ---- Strike me. Don't be afraid. If you slaughtered that stupid colonel in front of me, I'd offer you his grade, his pistol, his salary. Go, go and kill him, search for him, search. Kill. Kill. Ah ! you hit him, oh ! how it stinks, his bug's blood. Strangle him now. With your hands. With your thighs. You'll come to the funeral. Standing next to me, you fart when his wife, covered in black clouds and blood, one hand inside the holy water basin, with bloodshot eyes, questions me about her husband's death. At the far end of the church, priests are hanging from meat hooks : She : \speech{General, come with me, we will break in the river the phial of sperm I've been keeping since my wedding day. Please tell me, your soldiers did send home my husband's phial ? We both had one phial : I of his sperm, and he of mine\ldots} +--- Strike me. Don't be afraid. If you slaughtered that stupid colonel in front of me, I'd offer you his grade, his pistol, his salary. Go, go and kill him, search for him, search. Kill. Kill. Ah~! you hit him, oh~! how it stinks, his bug's blood. Strangle him now. With your hands. With your thighs. You'll come to the funeral. Standing next to me, you fart when his wife, covered in black clouds and blood, one hand inside the holy water basin, with bloodshot eyes, questions me about her husband's death. At the far end of the church, priests are hanging from meat hooks : She : \speech{General, come with me, we will break in the river the phial of sperm I've been keeping since my wedding day. Please tell me, your soldiers did send home my husband's phial~? We both had one phial : I of his sperm, and he of mine\ldots} --- General, if you please, write me the voucher. @@ -3257,11 +3262,11 @@ The soldier steps back towards the door. --- All right, leave, pack up your things, you're transferred to the Ait Saada Mines. ---- General, don't do that. If I die, my fianc\'{e}e will die. +--- General, don't do that. If I die, my fianc\'ee will die. --- Idiot. She'll fall into someone else's arms. The world, the bars are filled with handsome guys, with strong muscles and strong sex. One of those fascinates her, embraces her, seduces her, penetrates her, makes her his slave. For him she sells herself on the streets, gets covered like a bitch along a toilet wall, standing, quivering, saliva foaming between her lips and the boy's, their tongues touching, clinging together. -The soldier goes out, running through the vestibule then in the headquarters' gallery : \speech{The general is mad !~\ldots} +The soldier goes out, running through the vestibule then in the headquarters' gallery : \speech{The general is mad~!~\ldots} The guards overpower the soldier, but the general, coming out of his office, dashes towards them, trousers open, rubs his hardened cock on their battledress, on their rifle butts ; the colonel, in the radio room, phones over the table where the operator is crumpling messages. @@ -3321,7 +3326,7 @@ In the office, the general, by the window watches the deserted courtyard : the s --- The boy who made the song on you will be brought in. I've given orders to search for young Kment. ---- You're a fine procurer, colonel ; are you aware too that on my arrival in the Island, not long ago, I fell madly in love with Serge. Since then, I feel hatred for him. However, what grace, what indotence, what passion\ldots\ but his sperm is not for me, I felt it as soon I saw the boy arrive : too fluid, too spiritual, blood, tears. I like sperm heavy, warm, the milk that heartens, the sperm one plays with, and that one rolls around the finger, that shakes under the lips. +--- You're a fine procurer, colonel ; are you aware too that on my arrival in the Island, not long ago, I fell madly in love with Serge. Since then, I feel hatred for him. However, what grace, what indolence, what passion\ldots\ but his sperm is not for me, I felt it as soon I saw the boy arrive : too fluid, too spiritual, blood, tears. I like sperm heavy, warm, the milk that heartens, the sperm one plays with, and that one rolls around the finger, that shakes under the lips. --- General, you do not need me any more, I shall leave. The two bomb disposal platoons must be on their way by noon. @@ -3345,11 +3350,11 @@ The captain, above the children lying on their bellies, presses his chest. --- What fine youth, snakes jumping between the wet cliffs, arsonists, ship-wreckers, slaughterers~! -The flock from Inamenas, fleeing before the shouts of those young wolves, old men snapped up and thrown on the sand, young wolves' foam upon the women's bellies, Ah ! war, war. +The flock from Inamenas, fleeing before the shouts of those young wolves, old men snapped up and thrown on the sand, young wolves' foam upon the women's bellies, Ah~! war, war. Whores wash late in the morning, in the horse-ponds filled with blue water ; flies coming from the heap of human and animal shit fuming at the doors of stables and huts, cover the whores' tatters, their wretched working clothes thrown on the muddy paving stones around the horse-ponds, lift, flop down the still damp and crumpled pieces of cloth ; children, feet in the mud, harass the whores, jump in the mud, pinch their hips, trample their clothes, splash their legs, with the mud : one boy, drawing to him a goat coming out of a stable, mates with the motionless animal ; the children, all around, laugh, their glittering teeth covered here and there by blood and shreds of black meat. -The sun, invisible in the sky, burns inside the puddles ; the boy's sperm flows and shines on the goat's hair ; the shadows of the storks slide on the whores' backs, the madam screams, breasts showing, under the eucalypti : men soiled with dirty oil, cement, blood, gall, vegetal milk, are pulling her by the arms. The whores plunge their head'in the water~: +The sun, invisible in the sky, burns inside the puddles ; the boy's sperm flows and shines on the goat's hair ; the shadows of the storks slide on the whores' backs, the madam screams, breasts showing, under the eucalypti : men soiled with dirty oil, cement, blood, gall, vegetal milk, are pulling her by the arms. The whores plunge their head in the water~: --- Let the old woman manage by herself, tasting a bit of men's blood will do her no harm. @@ -3381,11 +3386,11 @@ The soldier salutes, steps back, opens the door and leaves~: --- He has a stain of grease on his leg. Always stains, always holes, like those from Inamenas. ---- General, how can you suffer such scoundrels ? But, I shall leave you alone. So I'll sleep at home tonight. +--- General, how can you suffer such scoundrels~? But, I shall leave you alone. So I'll sleep at home tonight. % TODO this looks like an error -\gl --- Your boys shall play with you inside your bed, the house smells of night's sweat, of milk, the boy lies between your wife and yourself, his pyjamas are half-opened ; a breeze of ink comes down from the window ; the alarm-clock beats in the dark under the bedside lamp's crystal. The boy unties the pyjamas' string, thrusts his hand between the thighs, you stroke his wrists, at the tip of your fingers, brushing the down of his cock : his mother, your wife, gives a start, her hand moves upwards along her child's hip, her own cunt, is roused, swells, half- opens itself ; the ink-soaked curtain collapses ; both of you roll over the boy, you penetrate him together from the front and from the rear, he groans, head tilted on the pillow, then you make love over his body filled, emptied, on his young belly you hug each other like in the first days, both your semens mixed flow on his navel ; his body jumps, his lips tremble, a bit of blood spurts from the corners, you and your wife lick it, and pull him, each of you to his own side : the pyjamas wet, crumpled, tucked up as far as the shoulders and dragged down to the knees, your hands mould them, your teeth nibble them ; the woman squats down, walks by her boy, grabs him by the feet, lifts his legs, opens the thighs, plunges her head and teeth between them, like in a juicy water melon, that wets the cheeks and the tips of the ears, and parting them, grunts, growls, sniffs, groans. +\speech{--- Your boys shall play with you inside your bed, the house smells of night's sweat, of milk, the boy lies between your wife and yourself, his pyjamas are half-opened ; a breeze of ink comes down from the window ; the alarm-clock beats in the dark under the bedside lamp's crystal. The boy unties the pyjamas' string, thrusts his hand between the thighs, you stroke his wrists, at the tip of your fingers, brushing the down of his cock : his mother, your wife, gives a start, her hand moves upwards along her child's hip, her own cunt, is roused, swells, half-opens itself ; the ink-soaked curtain collapses ; both of you roll over the boy, you penetrate him together from the front and from the rear, he groans, head tilted on the pillow, then you make love over his body filled, emptied, on his young belly you hug each other like in the first days, both your semens mixed flow on his navel ; his body jumps, his lips tremble, a bit of blood spurts from the corners, you and your wife lick it, and pull him, each of you to his own side : the pyjamas wet, crumpled, tucked up as far as the shoulders and dragged down to the knees, your hands mould them, your teeth nibble them ; the woman squats down, walks by her boy, grabs him by the feet, lifts his legs, opens the thighs, plunges her head and teeth between them, like in a juicy water melon, that wets the cheeks and the tips of the ears, and parting them, grunts, growls, sniffs, groans. The boy moans, head tilted on your chest, the woman imitates that moaning and laughs, lips and nostrils tickled by her boy's down ; he puts his hand on your knee, which he feels stiffened by the coming orgasm ; sperm gushes out of your taut and lonely cock, falls back, spatters your belly, your thighs, your boy's hand ; the ink breeze splashes the lamp's crystal ; the crucifix, above the bed, moves, undulates, twists like a snake, a little laugh comes from the crucifix, shakes the crown of thorns. @@ -3403,13 +3408,13 @@ I pull my boy from under the truck, I cover him for a moment, I say to him~: He wraps his hot arms around my neck, I lick on his cheeks the burning tears, the bay leaves melt upon his belly, under mine. ---- I shall hit you, I shall whip you ; all day, all night you shall wander, naked, all shiny, all humid with saliva, and sperm, you shall rub your warm and gluey stomach against the icy marble of the bar, laughing, your jaw glittering, your hair blackened, palms of dizziness and nausea ; elbows hitting the counter ; a man has been watching for you at the far end of the room, he dashes forward, he pounces upon you, like the magnet and he flattens you against the marble, with his teeth he pulls out your hair from your nape, brutal he turns you over, puts his hand on your belly's laurel. I shall betray the one I love.\gr +--- I shall hit you, I shall whip you ; all day, all night you shall wander, naked, all shiny, all humid with saliva, and sperm, you shall rub your warm and gluey stomach against the icy marble of the bar, laughing, your jaw glittering, your hair blackened, palms of dizziness and nausea ; elbows hitting the counter ; a man has been watching for you at the far end of the room, he dashes forward, he pounces upon you, like the magnet and he flattens you against the marble, with his teeth he pulls out your hair from your nape, brutal he turns you over, puts his hand on your belly's laurel. I shall betray the one I love.} The general wipes the sweat on his forehead, unbuttons the top of his shirt, shakes his wet back on the prickly blanket ; rubbing on the gallery's tiled floor ; birds strike the shutters ; the general writhes on his bed, his hand, under the belt and under the cloth, lifts, pulls at his cock, like one digs the earth under a root~: ---- \said{Boy, lying naked on the dry sand, on the cliff, black rats and white rats fight in the bundles of acacia wood, under the night, ! part pinching them between my fingers the lips of your cock, and I spit the bay leaf in there ; I close again the sweet lips of your cock, and I arouse it with balis of amber from the sand, and I feel sperm rising and the muscle growing hard and I set my lips, wet by shame and quick remorse, on the half-opened lips of your marble cock and I suck in both the sperm and the laurel juice.} +--- \speech{Boy, lying naked on the dry sand, on the cliff, black rats and white rats fight in the bundles of acacia wood, under the night, I part pinching them between my fingers the lips of your cock, and I spit the bay leaf in there ; I close again the sweet lips of your cock, and I arouse it with balls of amber from the sand, and I feel sperm rising and the muscle growing hard and I set my lips, wet by shame and quick remorse, on the half-opened lips of your marble cock and I suck in both the sperm and the laurel juice.} -\chapter{Fourth Chant} +\chapter{Fourth Song} The captain leaves his room at noon, he sees the general's apartment's shutters closed. His men cross the courtyard, they come to him~: @@ -3417,11 +3422,11 @@ The captain leaves his room at noon, he sees the general's apartment's shutters --- Go and wash now. After grub and nap, meet up at the barbed wire storehouse. Got it~? ---- Again the barbed wire, captain ? put on skin gloves, with that heat and the sores ? Couldn't we go and work in the Palace, at the old man's~? +--- Again the barbed wire, captain~? put on skin gloves, with that heat and the sores~? Couldn't we go and work in the Palace, at the old man's~? --- No. Those wires have to be put up, before the ceasefire. ---- Captain, you believe in that ceasefire ? As for me, before I leave here, I'll treat myself to filling a few targets in the lower city. +--- Captain, you believe in that ceasefire~? As for me, before I leave here, I'll treat myself to filling a few targets in the lower city. --- Shut up, Virido. Captain, how many days left, this morning~? @@ -3431,7 +3436,7 @@ The captain leaves his room at noon, he sees the general's apartment's shutters --- I didn't ask for your advice, Virido. ---- Captain, Jamet he hasn't got over what happened tonight ? All morning while mending the line, he was snivelling. Captain, you're too kind with those creatures. Jamet did right. +--- Captain, Jamet he hasn't got over what happened tonight~? All morning while mending the line, he was snivelling. Captain, you're too kind with those creatures. Jamet did right. --- You're a brute, Virido. Ain't it so, captain, how things are at Virido's, they fuck with the animals. And his sister, hey your sister, Virido, you make love with her. The Viridos --- one can't tell who's the father and who's the son. Your grand-dad, Virido, wouldn't he be one of your sons, by chance. @@ -3451,7 +3456,7 @@ The captain leaves his room at noon, he sees the general's apartment's shutters --- Captain, we've heard the radio operator at second platoon, he's in jail. ---- What ? Thivai in jail~? +--- What~? Thivai in jail~? --- A colonel and two lieutenants from security came to question him this morning : he spoke to the rebs in his mike, he warned them of the ambushes. @@ -3465,14 +3470,14 @@ lad. --- Thivai, he's a swell guy. You remember the day he buried a reb and his son, in front of the cave ; the chief kept quiet. % TODO same story -\noindent --- Thivai, he could do everything and he was a writer : one day, on leave, I saw a +--- Thivai, he could do everything and he was a writer : one day, on leave, I saw a book by him in a train station. --- He'll get along against those shirkers. --- Captain, you'll testify in his favour. You remember, when Thivai was on washing up duty, the captain would go and meet him on the oued's bank. ---- Thivai and I were at school together. But what have those shirkers got against him ? Thivai, swimming in red bathing suit in the watercress water and I, girded up with a piece of cloth, beating up the farm girls towards the bank, Thivai splashing them\ldots +--- Thivai and I were at school together. But what have those shirkers got against him~? Thivai, swimming in red bathing suit in the watercress water and I, girded up with a piece of cloth, beating up the farm girls towards the bank, Thivai splashing them\ldots The soldiers leave, retire to their barrackroom, sit down on the straw mattresses, pull away their wet shoes, lie on the mattresses, arms under the nape. Virido rummages in his locker --- an ammunition crate with its cover held open by a shoelace --- takes a can of condensed milk, pierces it with his knife, sticks his lips to the slit, sucks, head tilted back, kneeling on his mattress, buttocks crushing his bare heels ; sand runs under the door, lashes against the barrack walls. @@ -3482,9 +3487,9 @@ The soldiers leave, retire to their barrackroom, sit down on the straw mattresse --- Yes, what have they done to you~? ---- They took my notebooks and my books. Say, would you take my Ait-Saada photos to Inamenas ? Have the best ones enlarged. +--- They took my notebooks and my books. Say, would you take my Ait-Saada photos to Inamenas~? Have the best ones enlarged. ---- Don't worry, old pal, I'm here. Your little dog follows me everywhere. Pipo. Pipo. Can you hear him crying behind the door ? You can see nothing in there ? You have a straw mattress~? +--- Don't worry, old pal, I'm here. Your little dog follows me everywhere. Pipo. Pipo. Can you hear him crying behind the door~? You can see nothing in there~? You have a straw mattress~? --- The electric bulb was snatched away a few minutes ago. I have my camp bed. I like the smell of the batteries. I was thinking, when you knocked, of the farm girls at Raisko. @@ -3522,7 +3527,7 @@ The soldiers leave, retire to their barrackroom, sit down on the straw mattresse --- Yes, but I surrendered very quickly. Thivai, I can't love any more, by dint of holding back and waiting. ---- All of you, in the army, with a pure heart, you kill. Children, youths, you fight and slaughter rebels, men. Xaintrailles, you dislike rebellion, you prefer the discretion and dignity of silence. But, you eat, you are groomed, paid, medalled. Xaintrailles, you do not love life. Leave a bit of liberty to the others. I hate your matters of conscience. That colonel, those lieutenants, this morning, Xaintrailles, o how can you laugh with them. Ignorants, silly children, classroom farters. Them, free ? Xaintrailles, you were such a freedom lover, once, little animal picking and frolicking, men's freedom will explode in your throat torn by bullets, and your death will be beautiful and you will hold out your hand to your killer and he, again, tears you, pierces you\ldots +--- All of you, in the army, with a pure heart, you kill. Children, youths, you fight and slaughter rebels, men. Xaintrailles, you dislike rebellion, you prefer the discretion and dignity of silence. But, you eat, you are groomed, paid, medalled. Xaintrailles, you do not love life. Leave a bit of liberty to the others. I hate your matters of conscience. That colonel, those lieutenants, this morning, Xaintrailles, o how can you laugh with them. Ignorants, silly children, classroom farters. Them, free~? Xaintrailles, you were such a freedom lover, once, little animal picking and frolicking, men's freedom will explode in your throat torn by bullets, and your death will be beautiful and you will hold out your hand to your killer and he, again, tears you, pierces you\ldots --- Thivai, I'm unhappy, I'm useless. I love men and I don't love their freedom. @@ -3536,18 +3541,18 @@ Xaintrailles and the little dog cross the empty courtyard where the storks' shad --- Thivai, he's educated, he doesn't think like them. ---- You believe so ? he's like the others\ldots +--- You believe so~? he's like the others\ldots --- By the way, Crazy Horse, he got his cross posthumously. ---- The day they brought back the dead body to the general, you remember how he wept, he was trying to bring himself together, I was driving the jeep, I said to him : \said{General, you're a woman.} It was freezing cold, he wanted to warm up his hands between my thighs ; I made him some coffee in a little barrack under the fir trees ; he took his cock with both hands, I couldn't obey him any more because I had seen his cock. They're rotten, all of them. For them a soldier is just good to put their hands on. +--- The day they brought back the dead body to the general, you remember how he wept, he was trying to bring himself together, I was driving the jeep, I said to him : \speech{General, you're a woman.} It was freezing cold, he wanted to warm up his hands between my thighs ; I made him some coffee in a little barrack under the fir trees ; he took his cock with both hands, I couldn't obey him any more because I had seen his cock. They're rotten, all of them. For them a soldier is just good to put their hands on. --- Bloody army. --- Only the women can cure us. % TODO etc -\noindent Captain Xaintrailles calls the little dog, he looks up towards the top of the central watchtower, the wood of the sentry box cracks, the sentry, belly flat against the protection sheet, is having a wank under the sun of blood ; blood runs in the body of the dozing soldiers, and of the insects covering them. Blood boils in the veins of the singer's neck, in the veins of the dancer's leg, neck of the singer, leg of the dancer pierced by the barbed wire ; the whores leaning at the windows watch the wedding, eat the gold from the bride's shoulder ; the bride spins in the little warm courtyard, the bridegroom observes her through the bars of a window, his fingers claw the hardened mastic ; his feet sheathed in tufts of sharp grassblades, trample the powdery ground. +Captain Xaintrailles calls the little dog, he looks up towards the top of the central watchtower, the wood of the sentry box cracks, the sentry, belly flat against the protection sheet, is having a wank under the sun of blood ; blood runs in the body of the dozing soldiers, and of the insects covering them. Blood boils in the veins of the singer's neck, in the veins of the dancer's leg, neck of the singer, leg of the dancer pierced by the barbed wire ; the whores leaning at the windows watch the wedding, eat the gold from the bride's shoulder ; the bride spins in the little warm courtyard, the bridegroom observes her through the bars of a window, his fingers claw the hardened mastic ; his feet sheathed in tufts of sharp grassblades, trample the powdery ground. Xaintrailles sees the wedding beyond the barbed wire, the procession trampling the powder and humidity ; the little dog has already pushed the Engines door, it jumps on the beds, wakes up the soldiers, nibbles their shoulders and uncovered breasts, sparkling through the mosquito nets~: @@ -3583,7 +3588,7 @@ The little dog frolics on the driver's belly~: --- You're all funks and shirkers. ---- We all did road works and ambushes We're all seniors. Also, we don't want to obey the general any more. Thivai he wants to fuck with him ? Why does he lock him up in Transmissions~? +--- We all did road works and ambushes We're all seniors. Also, we don't want to obey the general any more. Thivai he wants to fuck with him~? Why does he lock him up in Transmissions~? --- It's none of your business. The general is ill, but he will get cured. The little dog lies down on Dafni's thighs, his warm belly on the soldier's erect cock. Captain Xaintrailles goes out, the little dog lies down on Dafni's thighs, he leaps forward, but Dafni holds him back by the tail~: @@ -3593,7 +3598,7 @@ The little dog turns back, nibbles the soldier's hand, jumps. Captain Xaintrailles crosses the courtyard again, Pino appears before him, his knife in hand ; the sun is so strong that Xaintrailles sees an assassin, he puts his hand on his hip, unfastens the automatic pistol's case~: ---- Captain, what's wrong with the general ? How come he doesn't want to go out no more~? +--- Captain, what's wrong with the general~? How come he doesn't want to go out no more~? --- Go away. Get out. You disgust me. You're asking for your five thousand francs~? @@ -3603,7 +3608,7 @@ Xaintrailles wipes his forehead~: --- You've corrupted our general. ---- Ah! he changed, your general, he doesn't give a fuck about you, your war, your tortures ; his bands, you now what place of his body he shoves them into ? And his Eminence and the God ? Saint Wankette, pray for me. +--- Ah~! he changed, your general, he doesn't give a fuck about you, your war, your tortures ; his bands, you now what place of his body he shoves them into~? And his Eminence and the God~? Saint Wankette, pray for me. --- Shut up. @@ -3615,7 +3620,7 @@ Xaintrailles wipes his forehead~: --- Come and see me tonight, after grub, in my room. ---- You're starting too ? You don't look so\ldots\ No, captain, I don't feel like it. I didn't hear the little rain at five o'clock this morning. +--- You're starting too~? You don't look so\ldots\ No, captain, I don't feel like it. I didn't hear the little rain at five o'clock this morning. --- Come and see me, if we escaped from the island, I, Thivai, Emilienne and Serge, would you escape with us~? @@ -3635,13 +3640,13 @@ The soldier buries his fingers in his hair. When he pulls them out, a black stre --- Forgive me for my insults. Will you come with us~? ---- Don't take my freedom away from me. You imagine horrible things about the brothels. As for me, it's my natural element. You, you obey a governess, I obey pimps. You learned science, I was learning love. I know how to use my body. I know how to be beautiful without taking notice, while pissing, while sleeping ; I know how to be black, yeilow, red, negro, viking, greek, rowing slave ; my saliva dirty like the surf, comes and goes on men's bellies like the surf, falls in their open mouth like the rain, bakes their eyelids again, like the rain fallen from the leaves, my belly grows hollow and rises under their lips like the mud in the marshes ; I am chained, nailed to the leather seat, to the bashed-in bed, to the humid straw mattress, to the viscous tiled floor, to the cement, the spitting worms crack, crunch under my back. +--- Don't take my freedom away from me. You imagine horrible things about the brothels. As for me, it's my natural element. You, you obey a governess, I obey pimps. You learned science, I was learning love. I know how to use my body. I know how to be beautiful without taking notice, while pissing, while sleeping ; I know how to be black, yellow, red, negro, viking, greek, rowing slave ; my saliva dirty like the surf, comes and goes on men's bellies like the surf, falls in their open mouth like the rain, bakes their eyelids again, like the rain fallen from the leaves, my belly grows hollow and rises under their lips like the mud in the marshes ; I am chained, nailed to the leather seat, to the bashed-in bed, to the humid straw mattress, to the viscous tiled floor, to the cement, the spitting worms crack, crunch under my back. --- Shut up, shut up. --- When I'm still a child, the mistress lays me down, muffled up in blankets, on the brothel's doorstep, a hand lifts me up by the neck, the mistress runs away, I keep silent, fear pushes me into the overheated hall where wine and semen flow ; the blanket is pulled away, thrown under a bench, a young man is writing in an account book, at the end of the hall ; a hand grabs my throat, squeezes it ; a door opens, in the far end, a puff of wind and grass from the darkened garden, lashes my face ; a hand lifts me by the neck, like a kitten. ---- Will Divinity open up her heart, when shall we drink the blood from her heart ? When does she awaken me with her hand of sun and her lips of pine ? When the women, maternally provoking, pass by, the young widows with their voices hoarse and soft and lisping, they do not look away from my half-naked body squatting in the fountain, the icy water lapping between my thighs, my wet head seized by the sun and the sand wind. +--- Will Divinity open up her heart, when shall we drink the blood from her heart~? When does she awaken me with her hand of sun and her lips of pine~? When the women, maternally provoking, pass by, the young widows with their voices hoarse and soft and lisping, they do not look away from my half-naked body squatting in the fountain, the icy water lapping between my thighs, my wet head seized by the sun and the sand wind. Thivai lies down on the camp bed, wrists crossed under the nape~: @@ -3651,7 +3656,7 @@ Thivai lies down on the camp bed, wrists crossed under the nape~: The soldiers in close formation march down towards the lower city ; children from the rubbish piles, make lewd gestures to them, the soldiers laugh, leap forward, shouting ; the children draw back, move forward again, pick up rubbish and throw it at the soldiers' feet. A naked child gets up from a smashed in rabbit hutch --- a man is hiding behind an eucalyptus --- climbs up the rubbish pile ; a soldier takes aim at him, the sub-machine gun's barrel moves down to the child's feet, up along his legs, the soldier sees running there a bit of sperm mixed with mud ; the soldiers move off, the man comes out from behind the tree, runs towards the hutch where the child lies, legs spread apart, face buried in the old, rotten, excremental litter, chest hollowed above the nails and the wire, penis crushed against the wire netting : the soldiers, weapon in hand, climb the ruins and the banks ; children naked, or their penis, or knee, or throat wrapped in rags, their back, their buttocks, their cheek red, wake up at the soldiers' feet and rise, head covered with straw ; inside their still warm holes, rats tremble, climb upon each other with little squeaks ; the soldiers pass by the laundry shop, in front of the commandos' dormitories, just between the two cities ; they stop : the glass door is half-opened, a soldier, with his sten gun's butt, pushes the door : Giauhare, in the far end of the shop, is ironing shirts and battledresses ; her mother, sitting inside the back shop, in the sun and steam, is sewing, without a thimble ; the soldier walks towards Giauhare. -The girl puts her iron down, her hands cling to the board, the palm and the fingers on the hot cloth charred towards the middle ; the soldier steps forward, weapon supported by both his hands and pointed at Giauhare ; the other soldiers are stamping their feet outside, lighting cigarettes ; the soldier leaps, knocks the board over with his knee, brandishes his weapon at arm's length, grabs the girl's shoulder with his free hand, draws the girl against him ; with the sten gun's barrel, he closes the back'shop door, and turns the key ; the mother knocks at the pane, screams ; the steam gradually clouds the pane ; the mother runs to the other door, opens it, goes in the garden, comes back to the street, the soldiers move aside then encircle the old woman ; she crouches down, her head strikes the knees of the motionless soldiers, her hands cling to the battledress cloth, pinch the thighs' skin ; in the shop, the soldier has knocked Giauhare down on the tiled floor, the sten gun's butt crushes the fragments of the water bowl, Giauhare's shoulder strikes the board ; the soldier, keeping his sten gun in one hand, with the other tucks up the girl's dress, she drives her fingers in the soldier's eyes, nostrils and mouth. +The girl puts her iron down, her hands cling to the board, the palm and the fingers on the hot cloth charred towards the middle ; the soldier steps forward, weapon supported by both his hands and pointed at Giauhare ; the other soldiers are stamping their feet outside, lighting cigarettes ; the soldier leaps, knocks the board over with his knee, brandishes his weapon at arm's length, grabs the girl's shoulder with his free hand, draws the girl against him ; with the sten gun's barrel, he closes the back shop door, and turns the key ; the mother knocks at the pane, screams ; the steam gradually clouds the pane ; the mother runs to the other door, opens it, goes in the garden, comes back to the street, the soldiers move aside then encircle the old woman ; she crouches down, her head strikes the knees of the motionless soldiers, her hands cling to the battledress cloth, pinch the thighs' skin ; in the shop, the soldier has knocked Giauhare down on the tiled floor, the sten gun's butt crushes the fragments of the water bowl, Giauhare's shoulder strikes the board ; the soldier, keeping his sten gun in one hand, with the other tucks up the girl's dress, she drives her fingers in the soldier's eyes, nostrils and mouth. He spits at the girl's face, he weighs heavily on her, his free hand tears away the shreds of her dress, crumples them, thrusts them between the girl's thighs, pulls them out, raises them to his mouth, tears them with his teeth, spits them out again on the girl's bare belly. Then he brushes aside all the shreds, all the yarns from the girl's cunt, smooths the hair down, like an animal cleans the place it wants to live in ; his hand moves upwards, unbuttons the battledress ; his hip, all the right side of his body alone weighs upon the girl's left side ; his head and the girl's are connected by the filaments of dribble and saliva ; the girl's fingers claw the battledress cloth, at the shoulder ; the soldier rubs his cheek against her fingers ; his hand pulls the cock out ; the girl's knee rises, touches the tip of the cock ; the girl's gaze slips towards the tiled floor ; the iron, standing, next to the board, within the girl's reach, shines on the blue diamond-shaped tiles ; the girl's hand, while the other one is clawing the soldier's shoulder, stretches itself, touches the iron, catches it, lifts it up ; the soldier directs his hardened cock, viper's head, towards the girl's mop of hair ; his other hand drops the sten gun ; but the burning iron shoots out, the electric wire winds round the girl's wrist ; the soldier lets go of his cock, the iron swings on his open hand, the skin sizzles, the soldier screams ; the girl's hand holds the iron pressed on the soldier's hand, he writhes and falls backwards, his softened cock rolling on the battledress ; sweat flowing on the nostrils, and entering the eyes and blinding them, bathing the throat, the ears, the nape ; the girl, back on her feet, pulls the iron away ; the soldiers grab the wounded man : he bites his charred hand, he bites his wrist, he bites his arm until fresh blood runs ; the radio operator, in his P P. 8 calls the commandos' infirmary ; mother and daughter lock themselves up in the back shop ; children invade the garden and stare at the two embracing women ; the smell of burned flesh rises to the ceiling, filters through the slats, awakens, in the attic, Kment asleep on the straw. @@ -3665,9 +3670,9 @@ Kment, hands in his pockets, walks across the garden, trampling the grass heavy Kment holds his feet in the water above the sludge, then he lolls back, lets his shoulders hit the mud trampled by the beasts. Thus lying, his cock growing hard, under the sunbeams, he watches the sky, a stork soars towards the eucalypti, two helicopters hover in the middle of the sky ; Kment listens to the animals nibbling, pinching, stinging, wetting, sucking the trunks of the eucalypti ; soldiers lie in wait, weapon in hand, beyond the barbed wire, slightly higher up, in sentry boxes covered by foliage ; other soldiers, girded in kitchen cloths, carry fuming pots down the hill, stop before every sentry box, the sentry holds out his mess tin, immediately the ladle tinkles, the soldier brings his tin back under the leaves. -Kment licks his lips, swallows his saliva ; behind him, all along the brook, groups of sleepy children, feverish, staggering, lick their lips, watching the hill ; electric current crackles in the barbed wire ; a rat, out from the black water, hops around the child's body, runs along the arm, rummages for a while under the armpit, pulls out a few tufts of down, spits them out again on the child's chest, pulls the skin of the throat, huddles in the hollow of the throat, sticks its muzzle out, nibbles the chin ; bees and flies are buzzing, the rat sitting in the hollow of the throat, smooths down the hair under its ears with its claws, licks its fur, on the back on the loins\ldots\ it sets its paws on the child's shoulder, moves back, forward, back again, leaps, climbs on the cheek, the bees withdraw to the forehead, the rat snatches them with its claws and bites them ; he spits them out on the hair, sits on the forehead, smooths down the hair of the muzzle with its claws, runs along the eyes, stops at the edge of the eyelid, nibbles the eyebrows, pulls the eyelashes, uncovers the eyes, still fresh and blue, catches the iris membrane, pulls it, hissing. Flies come and go between the penis and the navel, sink between the folds of flesh, under the down ; the rat sees them, it lets go of the membrane, hops a few seconds on the spot then jumps on the belly, the flies escape, abandoning on the child's skin, the trails, the heaps of sweat, of juices, of powder. The rat buries its muzzle into the navel, the skin covers the end of its muzzle, the inside fold touches its teeth, the rat nibbles it, bites it, tears it, bites it, tears the skin as far as the root of the penis, opens a jagged furrow of rosy froth ; it plunges under the penis, lifts it, nibbles the crumpled and tender little tip, then, moving back under the thigh, its teeth well hooked to the softened membrane, it pulls at it, gradually baring the little slit of the penis ; the skin, all tucked up, gives out a slight smell of urine, blood and dried sperm. The penis still red springs up before the rat's muzzle ; the rat drives its teeth in it, the penis's tip, torn off, fills the muzzle of the rat, which, muzzle in the air, hops and tumbles down between the thighs ; the penis's skin gradually comes back and covers the white wound ; the rat eats greedily, sitting beneath the testicles held up by the top of its head, and falling over its ears ; the sun fumes inside the wounds. +Kment licks his lips, swallows his saliva ; behind him, all along the brook, groups of sleepy children, feverish, staggering, lick their lips, watching the hill ; electric current crackles in the barbed wire ; a rat, out from the black water, hops around the child's body, runs along the arm, rummages for a while under the armpit, pulls out a few tufts of down, spits them out again on the child's chest, pulls the skin of the throat, huddles in the hollow of the throat, sticks its muzzle out, nibbles the chin ; bees and flies are buzzing, the rat sitting in the hollow of the throat, smooths down the hair under its ears with its claws, licks its fur, on the back on the loins\ldots\ it sets its paws on the child's shoulder, moves back, forward, back again, leaps, climbs on the cheek, the bees withdraw to the forehead, the rat snatches them with its claws and bites them ; he spits them out on the hair, sits on the forehead, smooths down the hair of the muzzle with its claws, runs along the eyes, stops at the edge of the eyelid, nibbles the eyebrows, pulls the eyelashes, uncovers the eyes, still fresh and blue, catches the iris membrane, pulls it, hissing. Flies come and go between the penis and the navel, sink between the folds of flesh, under the down ; the rat sees them, it lets go of the membrane, hops a few seconds on the spot then jumps on the belly, the flies escape, abandoning on the child's skin, the trails, the heaps of sweat, of juices, of powder. The rat buries its muzzle into the navel, the skin covers the end of its muzzle, the inside fold touches its teeth, the rat nibbles it, bites it, tears it, bites it, tears the skin as far as the root of the penis, opens a jagged furrow of rosy froth ; it plunges under the penis, lifts it, nibbles the crumpled and tender little tip, then, moving back under the thigh, its teeth well hooked to the softened membrane, it pulls at it, gradually baring the little slit of the penis ; the skin, all tucked up, gives out a slight smell of urine, blood and dried sperm. The penis still red springs up before the rat's muzzle ; the rat drives its teeth in it, the penis' tip, torn off, fills the muzzle of the rat, which, muzzle in the air, hops and tumbles down between the thighs ; the penis' skin gradually comes back and covers the white wound ; the rat eats greedily, sitting beneath the testicles held up by the top of its head, and falling over its ears ; the sun fumes inside the wounds. -Flies, caught under the penis's membrane, die stuck in the wound ; the rat leaps on the child's knee, runs on his leg, up along the foot, keeps its balance on the toes, nibbles the nails ; the children, on the other side of the brook, pick up stones, pieces of sheet iron, and throw them at the rat ; it runs on the child's belly following the wounds, hides under the armpit, a stone hits the shoulder, the rat jumps, runs along the hip, on the black lime, it sinks under the buttock, comes out again between the child's thighs, a stone strikes its head, the rat hisses, shakes its legs, its muzzle is trembling ; a can with a sharp lid, slices one of its ears off, it scratches the wound with its claws, it enters again under the thigh, it runs along the hip, a piece of stake, thrown by Kment, nails him into earth, from the side ; it struggles, it squeaks, black blood spurts out from between its teeth, spatters the dead body's hip and the edge of the belly ; the rat raises the stake, leaning on its legs, the children assembled behind Kment kneeling, watch the rat die. The rat sinks down, it whines, muzzle searching in the mud, its teeth nibbling the sliced ear, they throw it back against the belly, the rat covers it with its paw ; the rat jumps, its belly grows hollow and remains so, its lifted paw trembles a few seconds then stiffens ; the children yell, dribble runs down their chin, covers their chest, their belly ; they scream, the filaments of dribble sparkle, stretched, balanced from the lips to the chin then to the belly ; the children are covered with open wounds and scars, riddled, stung, torn, beaten, bitten, burned, crushed ; their wounds close up over the flies, over wisps of straw, over fragments of glass, of china, over satiated bees. The child's body is soiled by the black marks left by the rat, they wind around his arms, his thighs, his legs, around his neck, cross his cheeks, his forehead, his chest, his hairs are stuck together in tufts ; flies, wasps swarm over those wounds, over the tears made by the rat, plunge under the severed membranes, they roll in the down of the penis, bend it, vibrate, buzz, creak as if in a newborn bush. +Flies, caught under the penis' membrane, die stuck in the wound ; the rat leaps on the child's knee, runs on his leg, up along the foot, keeps its balance on the toes, nibbles the nails ; the children, on the other side of the brook, pick up stones, pieces of sheet iron, and throw them at the rat ; it runs on the child's belly following the wounds, hides under the armpit, a stone hits the shoulder, the rat jumps, runs along the hip, on the black lime, it sinks under the buttock, comes out again between the child's thighs, a stone strikes its head, the rat hisses, shakes its legs, its muzzle is trembling ; a can with a sharp lid, slices one of its ears off, it scratches the wound with its claws, it enters again under the thigh, it runs along the hip, a piece of stake, thrown by Kment, nails him into earth, from the side ; it struggles, it squeaks, black blood spurts out from between its teeth, spatters the dead body's hip and the edge of the belly ; the rat raises the stake, leaning on its legs, the children assembled behind Kment kneeling, watch the rat die. The rat sinks down, it whines, muzzle searching in the mud, its teeth nibbling the sliced ear, they throw it back against the belly, the rat covers it with its paw ; the rat jumps, its belly grows hollow and remains so, its lifted paw trembles a few seconds then stiffens ; the children yell, dribble runs down their chin, covers their chest, their belly ; they scream, the filaments of dribble sparkle, stretched, balanced from the lips to the chin then to the belly ; the children are covered with open wounds and scars, riddled, stung, torn, beaten, bitten, burned, crushed ; their wounds close up over the flies, over wisps of straw, over fragments of glass, of china, over satiated bees. The child's body is soiled by the black marks left by the rat, they wind around his arms, his thighs, his legs, around his neck, cross his cheeks, his forehead, his chest, his hairs are stuck together in tufts ; flies, wasps swarm over those wounds, over the tears made by the rat, plunge under the severed membranes, they roll in the down of the penis, bend it, vibrate, buzz, creak as if in a newborn bush. Kment gets up, walks back towards the laundry shop, the children follow him, their feet trample the earth and the pebbles. As soon as they touch something soft, something fresh, the child bends, squats down, picks up, eats and scrapes the earth all around. Kment sits against the eucalyptus, opposite the laundry shop : the man is lying on the child in the rabbit hutch ; he hears the children's footsteps and their murmuring, he gets up, both hands leaning on the edge of the hutch ; the child, trampled, dazzled, body flattened, cheeks covered with the man's saliva, straightens himself up again, leaning on his elbows ; the man takes a banknote from his pocket and throws it on the child's belly. Kment gets up, the man puts his hands in front of his face and flees. The child brings the banknote to Kment. The boy takes it, the children form a circle around the tree, Kment, the banknote in hand, enters the grocery : little shop made of a thatched roof and mud walls, babies are rolling around behind the bamboo screen. @@ -3677,7 +3682,7 @@ Kment makes the children sit around the tree, tears a piece off, holds it out to Under the tree, the children are eating, the one the man fucked still smells of sweat, tobacco and man's clothes. The children pick the crumbs on their thighs, on the ground, around them ; their belly soon swollen, the elder ones measure it, feel it, imagine the course of the bread through the stomach, the intestines, try to take a dislike to that soft bread, smeared with pale sap, falling from pocket to pocket, and rotting, blocked inside the kidneys. The children yawn, lie on the ground, nape supported by the roots of the eucalyptus. -\noindent Kment walks behind the man, chuckles ; glowing fires, puddles, fume inside the +Kment walks behind the man, chuckles ; glowing fires, puddles, fume inside the ditches ; the bells of the archbishop's palace toll in the higher part of the city, the man slows down, stops, turns back~: @@ -3693,7 +3698,7 @@ Towards the top of the beach, the sea has pushed pebbles, round stones, cuttlebo Kment jumps among the rocks, crouches down, one hand dragging in a yellow puddle, and waits for the lizards ; he brings down his hand, the lizard escapes ; Kment on all fours, chases him ; his wet hand squashes the lizard, the little hard head turns back, over the nail ; Kment, between thumb and index, squeezes the open jaw, he raises his hand, the lizard is hanging, Kment bites the tail, gobbles it up, the belly writhes, bleeds ; Kment grabs it, gobbles it up, the lizard's legs grapple on to his lips, Kment cuts them with his teeth, spits them out on the rock, he throws into his mouth the head with its jaw opening convulsively, he crunches it, the lizard's teeth crack under his teeth ; Kment licks the tip of his fingers, he looks round, sees lizards running on the rock, disappear in the holes of the cliff, he stretches his hand out, catches two lizards, squeezes them in his fist and eats them, tail and head, belly and belly, tail and head, his lips are covered with little scales and little teeth, the remains of the legs prick his throat ; above him the grass on the cliff is on fire ; Kment rises, wipes his wet hand on his hip and dances, the smoke and the scent of grass drying the sweat on his body, he dances, his feet bare, grazed, burned on the rock, he throws his arms above his head, beats his hips, sticks out his belly, hollows it, the rags covering him, slide, get undone, fall along his thighs, he throws back over his shoulders his hair full of itchings, flies vibrate in his ears, his knees, the muscles of his neck crack, dribble runs down his chin ; head tilted backwards, oily, black hair brushing the top of his back, he lowers himself, belly convulsed, thighs opening, knees parted, heels joined ; his buttocks touch his heels, weigh upon them ; he throws both his hands between the knees, closes his fists, presses them against the rock, his toes, reddened, curl up, nails scraping the rock ; he drops on his right shoulder, he rolls on the side, the rock's fire seizes him, from feet to nape, he crosses his wrists under the nape, he stretches his legs, the shreds of lizards swarm in his intestines, he opens his dry eyes, he widens them with his fingers, turns them towards the sun and holds them open until he gets dazzled ; then he shuts them over the tears and can go to sleep, temple and ear against the burning and sharp rock. -\noindent Emilienne supports Serge : the boy passed his arms around her shoulders, his +Emilienne supports Serge : the boy passed his arms around her shoulders, his crutch makes holes in the wet sand. --- You don't think we risk a stray bullet or a grenade~? @@ -3744,7 +3749,7 @@ Emilienne leans her knee against the boy's bandaged knee, her thigh brushes the \ldots\ Young people, boys, prowl in daytime around the orphanage, bend their bows, their arrows pierce the moss on the walls ; while napping you listen to their shouts, the cracking of the bows, saliva foams up inside your mouth, you doze off, but an arrow strikes the dormitory window and you wake up, and you believe you see a boy's joyous face behind the pane ; his shoulders are covered by wool, his father is awaiting him, for the shooting lesson. ---- You talk too much, you are feverish. Let's leave this shore. I'm looking for some shade. Do you see any shade ? There are some caves further away, along the beach. +--- You talk too much, you are feverish. Let's leave this shore. I'm looking for some shade. Do you see any shade~? There are some caves further away, along the beach. --- And inside, faggots all vibrating with bees and rats. That's where the rebels leave their dead, where children come to die of hunger, under the gaze of the rats. @@ -3777,7 +3782,7 @@ thighs, holds it against his wrist, drives it inside his nostrils. --- My name is Tijena. ---- What were you doing at night, outside ? Stealing~? +--- What were you doing at night, outside~? Stealing~? --- The octopus was beating me, it ate me with its eyes. I was hungry. @@ -3817,19 +3822,19 @@ Emilienne takes Serge's arm again, lets her head lean on the boy's shoulder, the Under the caress, it rises, pierces the sand, touches your fingers, you fall beside me, I roll over you, I drive my entire hand in the top of your soaked dress, my hand covers your breasts, moves up towards your shoulder, I roll, I tuck up your dress, and my hand, my fingers walk over your belly, palm covered by the fabric ; you groan ; your cheeks, swollen ; my hand warms up on the sweet swelling of your cunt ; your breasts pierce the dress, I kiss them, I pull the fabric, they spring up against my lips, I take them and I press them both against my cheeks ; you, with your hands, you stroke my hips, your fingers brush the root of my cock, become tangled in the wet locks ; then it strikes your hip, and beats against it, you laugh no more, I roll my body over yours, my cock hardened, burning, crushed between your thighs ; you breathe, everywhere your breathing rises, I set my lips, I bite your blood, and your breath, your veins beat against my teeth, the root of my cock rests on the lips of your cunt, I rise a little, my cock drags between your thighs, then, like a magnet, your cunt snatches it. ---- Burned alive, shaken, thrown against the sand, lifted up, beaten, torn, eaten by this veiled mouth, strangled, whitened, reddened, chilled, pushed, ripened, picked, devoured, sucked up, bound, unbound, whipped, soiled, mist leaning over me, sunny rain, fish between my legs, fish lying on my belly, your sperm slices my body in two, it rises to the chest, it runs in my shoulders, it burns me, it burns me\ldots\ it seethes in my throat, you press my neck in order to keep it there, but it spurts under your fingers, and fills my mouth, you take my lips, and you suck from my mouth your own semen, made tepid ; after drinking you fall beside me on the sand, fingers parted because of the sperm and numbed by the embraces ; you spread your legs, and the sun enters between your thighs, where sweat and sperm are scintillating ; I do not move, I leave intact on my body the marks of the embrace and the shreds of my dress ; I spread my legs, and, leaping, you hold them parted with your hands and you bring your face towards my cunt, and you set your lips there ; I give a start, you squeeze my thighs between your fingers ; I rise on one elbow and with the other hand I stroke your damp palms ; your lips move up along the belly, your tongue sinks slightly inside my navel, your saliva covers it, your hands slide along my hips, envelop my breasts, clutch my armpits ; your body, heavy, wet, glistening, moves upwards along mine, your chest crushes my breasts, your jaw cracks on my eyes, your cock still taut drags on my belly, bathing in sweat, sperm and saliva ; my legs slacken ; my hands leaning on your thighs, try to push you back, my fingers brush your balls, which hang beneath your cock, warm, viscous ; I leave my hand in the hollow between the cock and the thigh, I let it snuggle up inside that childlike warmth ; then, under the caress, feeling my hand snuggled up, your cock stiffens exceedingly ; my hand strokes at the root, through the locks, then moves up along the muscle as far as the soft and purple tip, I take it in my hand, I press it gently, you stir over me, you groan, like an awoken sleeper, you weigh on me, my hand moves up behind the balls, sinks between your buttocks ; I hold you, my baby ; my arm folded, my elbow between your thighs, my hand on your loins, I make you slide on me as if I were bathing a baby ; little birds jump on your jeans half-buried in the sand. +{\sloppy --- Burned alive, shaken, thrown against the sand, lifted up, beaten, torn, eaten by this veiled mouth, strangled, whitened, reddened, chilled, pushed, ripened, picked, devoured, sucked up, bound, unbound, whipped, soiled, mist leaning over me, sunny rain, fish between my legs, fish lying on my belly, your sperm slices my body in two, it rises to the chest, it runs in my shoulders, it burns me, it burns me\ldots\ it seethes in my throat, you press my neck in order to keep it there, but it spurts under your fingers, and fills my mouth, you take my lips, and you suck from my mouth your own semen, made tepid ; after drinking you fall beside me on the sand, fingers parted because of the sperm and numbed by the embraces ; you spread your legs, and the sun enters between your thighs, where sweat and sperm are scintillating ; I do not move, I leave intact on my body the marks of the embrace and the shreds of my dress ; I spread my legs, and, leaping, you hold them parted with your hands and you bring your face towards my cunt, and you set your lips there ; I give a start, you squeeze my thighs between your fingers ; I rise on one elbow and with the other hand I stroke your damp palms ; your lips move up along the belly, your tongue sinks slightly inside my navel, your saliva covers it, your hands slide along my hips, envelop my breasts, clutch my armpits ; your body, heavy, wet, glistening, moves upwards along mine, your chest crushes my breasts, your jaw cracks on my eyes, your cock still taut drags on my belly, bathing in sweat, sperm and saliva ; my legs slacken ; my hands leaning on your thighs, try to push you back, my fingers brush your balls, which hang beneath your cock, warm, viscous ; I leave my hand in the hollow between the cock and the thigh, I let it snuggle up inside that childlike warmth ; then, under the caress, feeling my hand snuggled up, your cock stiffens exceedingly ; my hand strokes at the root, through the locks, then moves up along the muscle as far as the soft and purple tip, I take it in my hand, I press it gently, you stir over me, you groan, like an awoken sleeper, you weigh on me, my hand moves up behind the balls, sinks between your buttocks ; I hold you, my baby ; my arm folded, my elbow between your thighs, my hand on your loins, I make you slide on me as if I were bathing a baby ; little birds jump on your jeans half-buried in the sand. \par} --- I bite your eyes, my teeth strike the hard place on your forehead between your eyes, my nostrils get crushed in your hair. I devour, I crunch the palms, the woods, the celluloid from our childhood. You, without childhood, and I killing mine, we can love each other as if abandoned ; the wind is our heart, our heart now beats only between our thighs. We are wanted, but I kill my father, who sees me, and before he dies, I roll over you and I take you ; we slaughter, in the illuminated night, so many priests ; we throw the cardinal's disfigured body into the pond ; the fish, terror-stricken by the smell of rotten blood, jump out of the pond ; I have a torch in one hand and with the other I hold your breasts ; we've freed the little castrati, they tear to pieces the black young man who used to guard them ; anger reddens their shorts between the thighs ; many die in the early morning ; dawn fumes over the shreds and puddles ; I walk in a pulp of blood, nerves, eyes, cut off penises, my feet sink inside like in a sludge filled with worms and frogs ; I walk looking down, the died out torch in my fist, a lump of anguish in my throat ; all those corpses to bury. But you, cheerful, in the guardroom, the soldiers lift you up, half-naked, in a dusty and soiled blanket, they throw you in the air, and, when you're down again, they thrust their hands at the bottom of the blanket, they touch, they strike your body, under the dazzling lamp ; soldiers from the guard, woken up, watch you, sitting on their bunk beds, blanket on their shoes and rifle between their thighs. You laugh when one of those throwing you in the air touches your breasts, or your cunt ; his hand has shaken the dusty lamp, and it is the same that covers your breast or your cunt, burning and dusty. But one of them knocks the others down and carries you to the lower bunk, he lies over you, all armed, all dressed, his cartridge belts crush your belly, his mouth smells of wine and meat, he rises a little, his parted legs drag on each side of the straw mattress, unbuttons his battledress, pulls his cock out, and drives it into your cunt. -From the post's watchtower, a sentry sees a priest running away, beyond the barbed wire, at once he aims the searchlight at him and shouts : all --- except the one lying on you --- rush out of the guardroom, leap over the sandbags, run across the meadow of ashes, slide under the barbed wire, shout, fingers vibrating on their lips ; the priest runs to the right, to the left, they catch him, make him lie on the ash, take out their penknives and cut his head off, throw it beyond the beam of the searchlight, in the bamboos ; then, they pull off the body's clothes, gird their loins, and their brows with shreds of the cassock, tear the penis off and the eldest hangs it to his belt ; ash fumes along the body ; the sentry, in the watchtower, quivers joyfully, his hands shake on the protection sheet, the guards return to the post, under the watchtower, they draw aside with their shoulders the branches of the eucalypti, they sing, insects, drawn by the searchlights, strike the guards' foreheads and eyes. Dance, dance, scream, howl around me, whistle, drink, tear off your shirts, bite them, flies, bite the light and the fire, throw your shirts in the dust and trample, trample the sweat falling from your cheeks. Meanwhile, the soldier lying on you searches your belly, your eyes shine when you tilt your head backwards on the bloodstained pillow, but immediately the soldier takes your lips and brings your head back under his face ; rats run on the sandbags, a jackal, then two, then ten, trot towards the priest's body, they are dripping with water and slime, the river is in spate, the swamp moves back as far as the barbed wires ; the post's blankets are damp, the soldiers warm themselves up around me, waddle, the light helmet pressed against the thighs ; the general, leaning against the post door, watches them, I can see the folds of his battledress, on the thighs, swell and radiate under the pressure of the cock. Fight, tear each other, sacrifice yourselves before me, slaughter yourselves by my feet, turn your throats, offer them to the knife ; the blade is dripping with rain, the trucks start off behind the eucalypti ; soldiers standing on the bodies, prick them with their rifles ; in the streets of the lower city, children smeared with blood, grapple on to the trucks, the headlights dazzle the cats and dogs, an old woman comes out of her hut, with her cats clinging to her tatters, she comes to me, the cats are dead and their teeth are stuck in the old woman's flesh, their slit throat is black, red insects are caught in the dried blood ; the river, at the bottom of the district, rolls bodies of priests and rebel officers. I hate you, I see your blood, I see your heart. The feast I offer to your souls, is illuminated by blood, you do not recognize me, I've wrung my own heart, I've burnt it. I have no need for a heart, take it, priest, you who inflated it, eat it for lack of my cock, which makes you quiver and obsessed you like Jesus- Christ. Eat my heart, my cock, my brain. I keep my teeth and my hands to capture and devour ; my mother, why did you not abandon me~? +From the post's watchtower, a sentry sees a priest running away, beyond the barbed wire, at once he aims the searchlight at him and shouts : all --- except the one lying on you --- rush out of the guardroom, leap over the sandbags, run across the meadow of ashes, slide under the barbed wire, shout, fingers vibrating on their lips ; the priest runs to the right, to the left, they catch him, make him lie on the ash, take out their penknives and cut his head off, throw it beyond the beam of the searchlight, in the bamboos ; then, they pull off the body's clothes, gird their loins, and their brows with shreds of the cassock, tear the penis off and the eldest hangs it to his belt ; ash fumes along the body ; the sentry, in the watchtower, quivers joyfully, his hands shake on the protection sheet, the guards return to the post, under the watchtower, they draw aside with their shoulders the branches of the eucalypti, they sing, insects, drawn by the searchlights, strike the guards' foreheads and eyes. Dance, dance, scream, howl around me, whistle, drink, tear off your shirts, bite them, flies, bite the light and the fire, throw your shirts in the dust and trample, trample the sweat falling from your cheeks. Meanwhile, the soldier lying on you searches your belly, your eyes shine when you tilt your head backwards on the bloodstained pillow, but immediately the soldier takes your lips and brings your head back under his face ; rats run on the sandbags, a jackal, then two, then ten, trot towards the priest's body, they are dripping with water and slime, the river is in spate, the swamp moves back as far as the barbed wires ; the post's blankets are damp, the soldiers warm themselves up around me, waddle, the light helmet pressed against the thighs ; the general, leaning against the post door, watches them, I can see the folds of his battledress, on the thighs, swell and radiate under the pressure of the cock. Fight, tear each other, sacrifice yourselves before me, slaughter yourselves by my feet, turn your throats, offer them to the knife ; the blade is dripping with rain, the trucks start off behind the eucalypti ; soldiers standing on the bodies, prick them with their rifles ; in the streets of the lower city, children smeared with blood, grapple on to the trucks, the headlights dazzle the cats and dogs, an old woman comes out of her hut, with her cats clinging to her tatters, she comes to me, the cats are dead and their teeth are stuck in the old woman's flesh, their slit throat is black, red insects are caught in the dried blood ; the river, at the bottom of the district, rolls bodies of priests and rebel officers. I hate you, I see your blood, I see your heart. The feast I offer to your souls, is illuminated by blood, you do not recognize me, I've wrung my own heart, I've burnt it. I have no need for a heart, take it, priest, you who inflated it, eat it for lack of my cock, which makes you quiver and obsessed you like Jesus-Christ. Eat my heart, my cock, my brain. I keep my teeth and my hands to capture and devour ; my mother, why did you not abandon me~? --- I hang to your shoulders, my belly against yours, but you keep your hands raised and your eyes gaze vacantly. I take your knees, wrath makes them tremble. Look what they've done to me ; but, while they penetrated me, the fish escaped into the entrails of the earth. \secbreak -Illiten runs in the mountains, at noon he reaches the summit, falls at the feet of the sentries, at the cave's mouth. B\'{e}ja, who was sleeping, jumps, rushes out of the cave and picks up liliten ; two sentries carry the chief to a camp bed, at the far end of the cave, near a window ; B\'{e}ja opens his mouth and blows into it ; the woman brings fresh water in a big glass, B\'{e}ja lifts Illiten's nape and pours a bit of water in his mouth ; Illiten opens his eyes, sees the squatting woman, and, turning his back to her, he strokes her nape ; they all go outside, the woman holding the glass, as soon as they passed the cave's mouth, is caught by a sentry and kissed.violently on the neck ; B\'{e}ja picks the thistle thorns from Illiten's feet and hands~: +Illiten runs in the mountains, at noon he reaches the summit, falls at the feet of the sentries, at the cave's mouth. B\'eja, who was sleeping, jumps, rushes out of the cave and picks up liliten ; two sentries carry the chief to a camp bed, at the far end of the cave, near a window ; B\'eja opens his mouth and blows into it ; the woman brings fresh water in a big glass, B\'eja lifts Illiten's nape and pours a bit of water in his mouth ; Illiten opens his eyes, sees the squatting woman, and, turning his back to her, he strokes her nape ; they all go outside, the woman holding the glass, as soon as they passed the cave's mouth, is caught by a sentry and kissed.violently on the neck ; B\'eja picks the thistle thorns from Illiten's feet and hands~: --- They tortured you~? @@ -3841,21 +3846,21 @@ Illiten runs in the mountains, at noon he reaches the summit, falls at the feet Illiten rolls on the side, puts his head in his fists and falls asleep. -B\'{e}ja sees, on the wrists, the marks of the bonds : \said{I will be chief.} +B\'eja sees, on the wrists, the marks of the bonds : \speech{I will be chief.} -The wind pushes the sun into the cave : \said{I will capture the city.} +The wind pushes the sun into the cave : \speech{I will capture the city.} -The sentry knocks down the woman against the rock : \said{I will kill my lieutenants.} +The sentry knocks down the woman against the rock : \speech{I will kill my lieutenants.} -Takes her mouth with his beak : \said{I will govern alone.} +Takes her mouth with his beak : \speech{I will govern alone.} -Again, in the afternoon, the masses revolt ; leaders, arrived the day before from the slums, carrying orders from B\'{e}ja, wander through the streets, the courtyards and the stairs. +Again, in the afternoon, the masses revolt ; leaders, arrived the day before from the slums, carrying orders from B\'eja, wander through the streets, the courtyards and the stairs. They go and slaughter the madams and the pimps in the brothels, slaughter the men sprawled on the mattresses with the boys, slaughter the soldiers mating with the women ; the people, outside, yell at each murder ; boys and whores escape, the crowd carries them in triumph : they still have some sperm on the knees and lips : pimps, madams, clients knocked down on the tiled floor, on the mattresses, are still rattling, the crowd carries them into the common hall, and exhibits them on the bar, at the place where the first petting used to take place, over the empty glasses, the first twisting of the wrist, the first embrace ; bodies are slashed with knives, corkscrews, soiled with spittle, urine, the drawers are pulled open, the money stolen ; the boys and the whores direct the looting ; in a cellar, the crowd discovers two young boys, naked, bound together by the foot, marked at the corner of the lips by a little silver ring ; in a small room, adjoining the cave, eight naked men, stiff against the wall, are being stroked by a boy stripped to the waist, --- he wanks them one after the other, his wrists soiled, attracting coal dust, shine in the shimmering semi-darkness ; the crowd invades the room, covers the men, the boy escapes, crawling between the legs ; when the crowd withdraws, the men collapse along the wall, in the pools of blood ; the crowd captures the struggling boy, his torso, his face become covered with blood ; the other whores come and grab him, and whisper in his ear, but his eyes still gaze vacantly ; upstairs, the already drunk leaders, are mating with the whores, the crowd orders the boys to reveal the hideouts ; the boy leads the crowd, but when he has pointed a finger, the crowd knocks him down, tramples him, and throws itself on the money or on the food supplies. -Towards the middle of the afternoon, the crowd filled with money, wine, semolina, forces the boys to undress, to mate with the whores ; only one boy refuses, two men, out of the crowd, order the other whores to slit his throat ; blood gushes out, the crowd wakes up, laps up the glasses ; the boy, in the fray, escapes naked, he runs through the slums, he goes to the stream where Kment is sleeping, the hungry children yapping around him, the boy bends over : \said{Kment, Kment.} The boy wakes up~: +Towards the middle of the afternoon, the crowd filled with money, wine, semolina, forces the boys to undress, to mate with the whores ; only one boy refuses, two men, out of the crowd, order the other whores to slit his throat ; blood gushes out, the crowd wakes up, laps up the glasses ; the boy, in the fray, escapes naked, he runs through the slums, he goes to the stream where Kment is sleeping, the hungry children yapping around him, the boy bends over : \speech{Kment, Kment.} The boy wakes up~: ---- Kment, Kment, come quick B\'{e}ja must be warned before the soldiers come. +--- Kment, Kment, come quick B\'eja must be warned before the soldiers come. He whispers in Kment's ear. @@ -3885,7 +3890,7 @@ She holds out a pair of jeans, worn-out at the knees, and at the buttocks, the b --- Where's Kment~? ---- He went to see B\'{e}ja. +--- He went to see B\'eja. --- One day he'll get caught. @@ -3909,7 +3914,7 @@ Giauhare gives a start. --- My free hand would rise, search inside the clothes, laid on the chair, the madam wants the money, one snatches the bread, if one keeps the money one gets whipped, one can't sleep. A woman, in the afternoon, sends her chauffeur ; inside the car, the soldier caresses my belly. ---- My husband is reviewing troops. Would you like to have fun ? Show me what you can do. +--- My husband is reviewing troops. Would you like to have fun~? Show me what you can do. \ldots\ Once I'm naked before her, other women dash out from the wardrobe, screaming, they throw themselves at me ; then, when all of us are exhausted, a soldier comes in, he removes the soiled carpets, sheets and curtains ; he comes back carrying a tray with some tea : I grab the bread, the soldier remains standing behind me, the women scream, the soldier falls upon me, he squeezes my head between his thighs, I bite the cloth of his battledress, I bite his buttocks ; the women squat down, grab my cock, and milk it ; my buttocks slide on the sofa's velvet ; one woman moves her cup close to my cock and dips it slightly in the tepid tea, then she holds out the cup to the other women, lays the cup on the wooden floor ; the squatting women lap up the tea from the cup, one of them rises, her lips shining~: @@ -4009,7 +4014,7 @@ Their sweat seeps and mingles, through the pieces of cloth ; the girl's hair is --- Get up and drive my mother out of this house, drive her out, but without hitting her. Get up. -The boy gets up, his cock taut under the jeans, the skin of his chest crumpled --- sweat furrowing the filth --- he pushes the door, says to the old woman : \said{Go away, your daughter is throwing you out, she loves her own body, go away.} +The boy gets up, his cock taut under the jeans, the skin of his chest crumpled --- sweat furrowing the filth --- he pushes the door, says to the old woman : \speech{Go away, your daughter is throwing you out, she loves her own body, go away.} The boy comes closer, catches the old woman by the shoulder and pushes her towards the garden door, opens the garden door~: @@ -4021,7 +4026,7 @@ The palms, outside, move up again. Kment is running across the mountain, he join Draga now, raises himself up, breaks loose from the girl, his cock jumps out of the girl's cunt, and drags for a while over her mop of hair ; the girl licks her dried-up lips, her marble eyelids tremble under Draga's fingers ; cold grips both youths, runs through their veins and on the trails of sperm and saliva on their bodies~: ---- Where's my mother ? Why did you drive her out ? I was crazy. Let me rejoin her. Go away, you. +--- Where's my mother~? Why did you drive her out~? I was crazy. Let me rejoin her. Go away, you. The girl raises herself up on her elbows but Draga holds her on the ground, he writhes again over her, stirs his belly, hollows it, swells it, on the girl's belly, the breasts roll under his chest ; their knees collide, the kneecaps slide over each other~: @@ -4043,15 +4048,15 @@ He kisses her neck, his teeth bite the vein on the neck ; fire blazes up around They flee towards the river, he, suddenly taut, his limbs raised like spurs ; She, covered with ashes, holding the boy's hand, her breasts firm in spite of the run. -The crowd recoils in front of the laundry shop ; the mother sat down by the river, the piece of bread on her belly ; a herd is crossing the river ; in the deserted brothel, boys and whores are picking up their clothes, crowding in the madame's room, pulling out the drawers, fighting over the silk fabrics, the bearer bonds, the money, they break the framed photographs, the trinkets. On the wall, a coloured drawing : soldiers playing with the girls and the boys, under Madame Lulu's gaze, sitting behind the cash register ; on the top of the drawing, in a garland of breasts and cocks, the inscription : \said{To Madame Lulu, mistress of our bodies.} +The crowd recoils in front of the laundry shop ; the mother sat down by the river, the piece of bread on her belly ; a herd is crossing the river ; in the deserted brothel, boys and whores are picking up their clothes, crowding in the madame's room, pulling out the drawers, fighting over the silk fabrics, the bearer bonds, the money, they break the framed photographs, the trinkets. On the wall, a coloured drawing : soldiers playing with the girls and the boys, under Madame Lulu's gaze, sitting behind the cash register ; on the top of the drawing, in a garland of breasts and cocks, the inscription : \speech{To Madame Lulu, mistress of our bodies.} The boys hang bras, black, pink, made of lace, to their chest, they walk on tip-toe, twist their bodies, swagger and standing in line, touch each other, strike each other with their buttocks ; the girls, sprawled on the bed, embrace each other with cries of queens in heat, tear the sheets and chew the shreds and drive them, thus chewed and wet with saliva, between their thighs. -The girls take Madame Lulu's dresses, pull off their working clothes, slip the dresses on, stand before the bathroom mirrors, apply scent and make-up on themselves ; the boys take the clothes of Madame Lulu's lovers, slip them on and look at themselves in the mirrors, standing behind the girls and their hands on the girls' hips. The smallest ones drag the trousers and the jackets. All are walking on their still wet working clothes, trampling them ; in their excitement, some girls hurt themselves on Madame Lulu's hair-slides and brooches ; some boys, on her lovers' tiepins ; some others come up from the cellar, all bloody from the mutilations they inflict to the slaughtered men in the storeroom ; they bring back some wine that they drink from the bottle ; to the ones drinking, arms raised, the girls tickle the armpits or the cock, the bottle falls and breaks at the boy's feet ; little drunken children drag among the fragments of glass the bodies of Madame Lulu and the male customers ; they riddle them with glass, spit, wank over their mouths ; they tuck up the madame's dress, squat down and draw on her belly circular trails with their sperm ; dance by the dead bodies, sperm still gushing out of their cocks ; dance on one foot while raising their arms ; a boy snatches a baby's high chair from the backroom --- Madame Lulu had bought a baby and used to deliver him to men and women who polluted and sodomized him ---, holds it at arm's length and whirls it above Madame Lulu, then he strikes the body with it ; one foot pierces the right eye, the same foot, bloody and gluey, staves in the cunt ; blood spurts out, spatters the pulled out tufts ; the boy knocks the chair down, he holds it in position by its feet, he presses the elaborate back on the body's mouth, he lifts the chair up and, his foot on the body between the breasts, he smashes the jaw : he takes a small knife hanging under his armpit --- a defence against too passionate clients --- by a little string tied around the shoulder, squats down and slashes the lips, the jaws, the nose, the forehead ; the girls, squeezed in the madame's lamé dresses, turn round and round between the dead bodies, the top of their bodies and dresses soaked with wine ; along the wall, the girls and the boys set fire to the seats, the benches, the tables : flames are licking the soiled walls --- in spite of Madame Lulu's instructions for cleanliness and decency --- ; the boy rises from the dead body, he takes the matches, sets fire to the counter, then, helped by the other boys, he throws the dead body on the counter and all, their face and belly illuminated, watch the pyre devour the dead body. +{\sloppy The girls take Madame Lulu's dresses, pull off their working clothes, slip the dresses on, stand before the bathroom mirrors, apply scent and make-up on themselves ; the boys take the clothes of Madame Lulu's lovers, slip them on and look at themselves in the mirrors, standing behind the girls and their hands on the girls' hips. The smallest ones drag the trousers and the jackets. All are walking on their still wet working clothes, trampling them ; in their excitement, some girls hurt themselves on Madame Lulu's hair-slides and brooches ; some boys, on her lovers' tiepins ; some others come up from the cellar, all bloody from the mutilations they inflict to the slaughtered men in the storeroom ; they bring back some wine that they drink from the bottle ; to the ones drinking, arms raised, the girls tickle the armpits or the cock, the bottle falls and breaks at the boy's feet ; little drunken children drag among the fragments of glass the bodies of Madame Lulu and the male customers ; they riddle them with glass, spit, wank over their mouths ; they tuck up the madame's dress, squat down and draw on her belly circular trails with their sperm ; dance by the dead bodies, sperm still gushing out of their cocks ; dance on one foot while raising their arms ; a boy snatches a baby's high chair from the backroom --- Madame Lulu had bought a baby and used to deliver him to men and women who polluted and sodomized him ---, holds it at arm's length and whirls it above Madame Lulu, then he strikes the body with it ; one foot pierces the right eye, the same foot, bloody and gluey, staves in the cunt ; blood spurts out, spatters the pulled out tufts ; the boy knocks the chair down, he holds it in position by its feet, he presses the elaborate back on the body's mouth, he lifts the chair up and, his foot on the body between the breasts, he smashes the jaw : he takes a small knife hanging under his armpit --- a defence against too passionate clients --- by a little string tied around the shoulder, squats down and slashes the lips, the jaws, the nose, the forehead ; the girls, squeezed in the madame's lam\'e dresses, turn round and round between the dead bodies, the top of their bodies and dresses soaked with wine ; along the wall, the girls and the boys set fire to the seats, the benches, the tables : flames are licking the soiled walls --- in spite of Madame Lulu's instructions for cleanliness and decency --- ; the boy rises from the dead body, he takes the matches, sets fire to the counter, then, helped by the other boys, he throws the dead body on the counter and all, their face and belly illuminated, watch the pyre devour the dead body. \par} The slums are covered with smoke ; the soldiers are finishing their nap : officers and civilian chiefs are resting, reading, making love in the higher part of the city or bending at the door of their sleeping children. -Kment reaches the top of the mountain ; B\'{e}ja covers his shoulders with a blanket, the bdy tells his story and points at the smoke. The laundry shop collapses, sparks, embers shoot out and burn the children watching from too near, fascinated, the flames feeding their famished belly ; the crowd returns to the brothel ; a group of men and women capture a boy and a girl, gag them, carry them to the higher part of the slums, on the fourth floor of an unfinished building ; the rest of the crowd scatters ; the madame's recruiters, warned by the runaways, leave their observing and capturing posts and run towards the brothel where drunken girls and boys play client and whore ; the recruiters encircle the brothel ; push the windows, and jump into the hall ; they overpower the boys and the girls, who resist weakly, chain them to the backroom's thin columns, put out the fires and, threatening them with revolvers and knives, order two boys to carry the ashes and the bodies away. +Kment reaches the top of the mountain ; B\'eja covers his shoulders with a blanket, the boy tells his story and points at the smoke. The laundry shop collapses, sparks, embers shoot out and burn the children watching from too near, fascinated, the flames feeding their famished belly ; the crowd returns to the brothel ; a group of men and women capture a boy and a girl, gag them, carry them to the higher part of the slums, on the fourth floor of an unfinished building ; the rest of the crowd scatters ; the madame's recruiters, warned by the runaways, leave their observing and capturing posts and run towards the brothel where drunken girls and boys play client and whore ; the recruiters encircle the brothel ; push the windows, and jump into the hall ; they overpower the boys and the girls, who resist weakly, chain them to the backroom's thin columns, put out the fires and, threatening them with revolvers and knives, order two boys to carry the ashes and the bodies away. The boys, head dangling on the shoulder, eyes half-shut, sweep the ashes, push them through the backroom, to the garden door : the ash, raised by the push of the brooms and the resistance of the air, is beaten back on the boys, sticks to their knees soaked with wine and sperm, and blackens their chest wet with cooled-off sweat ; ashes, charred furniture are thrown on the rubbish piles where usually are thrown too-brutally deflowered young whores. @@ -4061,9 +4066,9 @@ The recruiters gradually set all the women free, order them to undress ; the wom The girls go up to the rooms, the recruiters unbind the other boys, push them out in the street, stand under the door, revolver on the hip : the boys, heavy with wine, wander in the middle of the street, --- dust sticks to their bare legs --- thumbs thrust in the underpants ; a worker appears at the end of the street, then three young men ; the boys see them, the one with the knife under the armpit walks towards the worker, the sun has dried the madame's blood on his hands and under his nails. -The worker sees the boy, licks his lips, the boy comes closer, puts his hand on the worker's haversack, pulls the bottle and sucks it, the worker strikes the boy, the wine seethes on the boy's lips, the worker takes the bottle back, the boy wipes his hands on his hips, thus making his underpants slip on his thighs, baring the top of the cock and the hair, he whispers in the man's ear : \said{If you want women, have a look up there.} +The worker sees the boy, licks his lips, the boy comes closer, puts his hand on the worker's haversack, pulls the bottle and sucks it, the worker strikes the boy, the wine seethes on the boy's lips, the worker takes the bottle back, the boy wipes his hands on his hips, thus making his underpants slip on his thighs, baring the top of the cock and the hair, he whispers in the man's ear : \speech{If you want women, have a look up there.} -The worker looks up : at Madame Lulu's window, a girl has tucked up her dress as far as the breasts and pressed her belly and her half-opened cunt against the pane ; the worker looks back, the three boys join him ; the boy clings to them, drinks from their bottles ; the four men have hard-ons under their overalls ; the boy drags them by the belt as far as the brothel door ; the recruiters hide in the backroom : a boy climbs over the garden wall, the recruiters see him, they dash forward, grab the boy's foot then the leg and make him fall on the ravaged shrubs, they drag him by the leg as far as the tool shed, open a hatch, push the boy before them, two recruiters go down with the boy ; the others return to the backroom, the girls are sprawled under the men, at the foot of the indoor staircase, the couples are quivering against the panelling like cockroaches smeared with wet ash ; a boy goes from one to another and arouses them with his feet or the broom's hair ; the two recruiters push the boy inside the secret underground passage, here they are in the storeroom, the boy trembles, he screams, throws himself against the wall, arms stretched out sideways ; his wide open eyes are rolling, shining in the semi- darkness, the slaughtered men's blood laps under his feet, the recruiters come closer, the boy runs to a corner, the recruiters pull out their knives, the boy runs along the wall, squats down, crawls, lifts with his forehead the hip of a slaughtered man, penetrates under the heap of bloody corpses being whipped by the recruiters, comes out again from between the thighs, gets on his feet, runs again, huddles in the corners ; the recruiters leave, lock up the storeroom door, shout from behind the door~: +The worker looks up : at Madame Lulu's window, a girl has tucked up her dress as far as the breasts and pressed her belly and her half-opened cunt against the pane ; the worker looks back, the three boys join him ; the boy clings to them, drinks from their bottles ; the four men have hard-ons under their overalls ; the boy drags them by the belt as far as the brothel door ; the recruiters hide in the backroom : a boy climbs over the garden wall, the recruiters see him, they dash forward, grab the boy's foot then the leg and make him fall on the ravaged shrubs, they drag him by the leg as far as the tool shed, open a hatch, push the boy before them, two recruiters go down with the boy ; the others return to the backroom, the girls are sprawled under the men, at the foot of the indoor staircase, the couples are quivering against the panelling like cockroaches smeared with wet ash ; a boy goes from one to another and arouses them with his feet or the broom's hair ; the two recruiters push the boy inside the secret underground passage, here they are in the storeroom, the boy trembles, he screams, throws himself against the wall, arms stretched out sideways ; his wide open eyes are rolling, shining in the semi-darkness, the slaughtered men's blood laps under his feet, the recruiters come closer, the boy runs to a corner, the recruiters pull out their knives, the boy runs along the wall, squats down, crawls, lifts with his forehead the hip of a slaughtered man, penetrates under the heap of bloody corpses being whipped by the recruiters, comes out again from between the thighs, gets on his feet, runs again, huddles in the corners ; the recruiters leave, lock up the storeroom door, shout from behind the door~: --- We shall not kill you. @@ -4071,13 +4076,13 @@ The boy goes to sit under the basement window, head on his knees, his bloody fee \ldots\ My mother hits me, the weasel smells the money hidden in my underpants, she wants to take it, I raise my little knife and I bleed her behind the ear, she utters a little sighing cry and collapses against me. Shit. -We are dirty, the soldiers grab El\"{o}, plunge him in the horse pond, mummy is buried under the manure pile, dogs, cats eat rats on her nose, between her thighs ; Draga waves his fist in the madam's back, Kment works by day, El\"{o} jumps on the soldiers' arms, the madame strokes a captain between the thighs, the bars of medals sparkle under the lamp, Draga is happy, his throat quivers, he beckons to me with his lips and eyes, I am leaning against the hand rail : \said{Madame Lulu gives you to the captain tonight. Go away, I'll replace you, he's a brute!} +We are dirty, the soldiers grab El\"{o}, plunge him in the horse pond, mummy is buried under the manure pile, dogs, cats eat rats on her nose, between her thighs ; Draga waves his fist in the madam's back, Kment works by day, El\"{o} jumps on the soldiers' arms, the madame strokes a captain between the thighs, the bars of medals sparkle under the lamp, Draga is happy, his throat quivers, he beckons to me with his lips and eyes, I am leaning against the hand rail : \speech{Madame Lulu gives you to the captain tonight. Go away, I'll replace you, he's a brute~!} \ldots\ I walk up the stairs again, on the landing the palms caress my bare hips ; in the Spring, rats, dogs, vultures pulled away the manure, I can see my mother's corpse, the weasel mellowed by the thaw ; manure has preserved her well, only the cunt and the lips have putrefied ; the liquefied eyes stir inside the sockets, the soldiers throw stones at the corpse, the flies vibrate, rise to our windows, settle on our lips, at night. I'm in love with Ism\`{e}ne. When her head jumps on the latrine's steps, and her undone hair soaks in the shit, and a man squatting on her makes her drunk, she is beautiful. -In the early morning, I go down to fetch her, boys and giris are asleep, dead drunk on the tiled floor, in the corridor, in the backroom, in the half-open latrine and doors beating in the wind of dawn, drunk, dripping with wine, sperm, their mouth half-open, lying on their back or on their belly, shrivelled up on their side, in the position the fast clients of the night left them in ; I look for my sweet Ism\`{e}ne and when I've found her, I take her in my arms, she's as beautiful as ever, her hair stuck to her forehead, the down of her thighs flattened, blackened by sweat, she purrs against my chest, I kiss her cheeks, I wipe the filth off her lips, I carry her to the boys' room, I lay her by my side on the straw mattress. +In the early morning, I go down to fetch her, boys and girls are asleep, dead drunk on the tiled floor, in the corridor, in the backroom, in the half-open latrine and doors beating in the wind of dawn, drunk, dripping with wine, sperm, their mouth half-open, lying on their back or on their belly, shrivelled up on their side, in the position the fast clients of the night left them in ; I look for my sweet Ism\`{e}ne and when I've found her, I take her in my arms, she's as beautiful as ever, her hair stuck to her forehead, the down of her thighs flattened, blackened by sweat, she purrs against my chest, I kiss her cheeks, I wipe the filth off her lips, I carry her to the boys' room, I lay her by my side on the straw mattress. \ldots\ The other boys are asleep, purring in the moonlight ; the underpants are quivering on the line stretched across the room ; Draga holds El\"{o} against him, all the boys are naked on the torn mattresses ; the nearest boy to the window, is sleeping with his hand between his thighs, straw and horsehair stick out in tufts from between his thighs, mixed with the black hair of the cock ; seagulls soar in the illuminated night, veer by the open window, the breath from their wings brushes the down and the tufts of horsehair ; all the boys have their head shaved, only I have kept my hair, men lather it with their sperm. @@ -4085,17 +4090,17 @@ Ism\`{e}ne sighs, the stains on her body stirred by the breathing, scintillates Draga groans, his hand moves on El\"{o}'s belly, he opens his eyes, closes them, opens them again, he rises on one elbow, his hip turns in the moonlight, his cock rolls in the shadow of the thighs ; his lip is bleeding around the silver ring~: ---- He hurt you ? I was hiding in the tamarisks. +--- He hurt you~? I was hiding in the tamarisks. --- He kept me for two hours, he bit me on the lips, everywhere, the bastard~! I look down, I see blood at the tip of his cock~: ---- B\'{e}ja wants to kill Illiten and attack the city. +--- B\'eja wants to kill Illiten and attack the city. ---- One should make the soldiers and civilians talk. Tell the girls. Madame Lulu is scared, I saw her trembling yesterday while taking the captain's money : \said{I saw you talk to him and make him talk. I forbid you. You must open your mouth only to receive his sperm, his spittle and his tears.} +--- One should make the soldiers and civilians talk. Tell the girls. Madame Lulu is scared, I saw her trembling yesterday while taking the captain's money : \speech{I saw you talk to him and make him talk. I forbid you. You must open your mouth only to receive his sperm, his spittle and his tears.} -My hand fondles the tips of Ism\`{e}ne's breasts, gently presses the nippie, Ism\`{e}ne gives a start~: +My hand fondles the tips of Ism\`{e}ne's breasts, gently presses the nipple, Ism\`{e}ne gives a start~: --- Stop it. @@ -4103,9 +4108,9 @@ My hand fondles the tips of Ism\`{e}ne's breasts, gently presses the nippie, Ism --- Shut up, Petrilion, Madame Lulu is coming out of her room. Listen, she opens the latrine door, she squats down, the door is wide open, she pisses, she snores, the wind chills her buttocks. ---- Where does she come from, Madame Lulu, say, Draga ? I found the baby under the garden manure, rats were stirring inside. +--- Where does she come from, Madame Lulu, say, Draga~? I found the baby under the garden manure, rats were stirring inside. ---- She comes from the mainland, over there too she used to manage a girls' brothel. Her lover was a sergeant, he got stoned to death on the first day of the Revolution ; B\'{e}ja finished him off and Kment dipped his hands in his belly sliced open by the scythe. Madame Lulu let the body rot on the square, but little by little she started buying some recruiters ; and one Sunday morning she opened her brothel, there was a procession, the cardinal had been bent on visiting the slums ; the boys and girls from the brothel, half-naked, stopped the procession, the priests ran away, the cardinal's crook fell on a boy's foot, he threw himself at the cardinal, he spat in his face, the cardinal was blessing him, the soldiers jammed on the brakes, they jumped out of the jeeps, they clubbed the boy to death, Madame Lulu had locked herself in with her kids, the boy putrefied on the square ; trucks, jeeps would roll over him and gradually he became a carrion, like the others. +--- She comes from the mainland, over there too she used to manage a girls' brothel. Her lover was a sergeant, he got stoned to death on the first day of the Revolution ; B\'eja finished him off and Kment dipped his hands in his belly sliced open by the scythe. Madame Lulu let the body rot on the square, but little by little she started buying some recruiters ; and one Sunday morning she opened her brothel, there was a procession, the cardinal had been bent on visiting the slums ; the boys and girls from the brothel, half-naked, stopped the procession, the priests ran away, the cardinal's crook fell on a boy's foot, he threw himself at the cardinal, he spat in his face, the cardinal was blessing him, the soldiers jammed on the brakes, they jumped out of the jeeps, they clubbed the boy to death, Madame Lulu had locked herself in with her kids, the boy putrefied on the square ; trucks, jeeps would roll over him and gradually he became a carrion, like the others. --- Draga, it would be easy for us to kill her. @@ -4139,7 +4144,7 @@ The recruiter lowers his knife, Madame Lulu takes my shoulder, strokes my hair~: She bends over the staircase, shouts~: ---- Here's Petrilion, my children, give his beautifui hair a wash. +--- Here's Petrilion, my children, give his beautiful hair a wash. She gently pushes me towards the staircase, I walk down, they are leaning at the bar and Draga is serving them some wine ; they pull at his underpants over the counter, they look back, I stop at the bottom of the stairs, my right foot on the last step~: @@ -4151,11 +4156,11 @@ Ism\`{e}ne passes by, completely naked, a chalk rag between the thighs ; two app --- Butter, butter. I'm coming down. -Madame Lulu comes down the stairs, bends over Ism\`{e}ne, my eyes are covered up, a recruiter brings some butter in his hand, Madame Lulu takes the butter, places it on Ism\`{e}ne's cunt, Ism\`{e}ne gives a start, Lulu's hand sinks between her thighs, I shudder, wine is seething in my mouth and belly. Draga fastens the captain's belt ; the captain pushes his head down and makes him kiss the badge on the belt ; dust wheels around the lamps, the fountains sing in the night outside, my father who cover yourself in a stolen blanket, and roll against your fighter comrades, come down, come and cover me with your blanket, carry me far away from here, no, leave Draga alone, he doesn't want to, up there, I can play with the soldiers, tell them : \said{I give you my son, crucify him on your mattresses, drink his sperm, all of you drink it.} My father, you undress and I'm already in bed, your clothes fall on the dark tiled floor, I watch the hair of your cock, you squat down, pull the blanket over you and lie against me, your lips are shining ; the tortured man screams in the night ; the soldiers drink inside the iron green tents ; the sentry paces before the open door ; I go to sleep and in the morning I wake up, alone, your clothes are on the floor, the captain is crouching, he throws the clothes on my chest : \said{Bring him back home and keep him.} Soldiers lift me by the shoulders and push me out ; other soldiers stand assembled under the flag ; pieces of meat are stirring against the wood. My house is cold ; Madame Lulu comes to play with the soldiers, I am sitting on my father's mattress, the soldiers stroke Madame Luiu's shoulders, she comes to sit by me, she takes my chin, she tucks up my lips, knocks my teeth with her nails, a soldier comes forward, his hand presses my thighs, he says : \said{The captain said : kill him, but we pity you, we'll kill a goat and lie on our mattresses with our hands bloody ; as for you, we entrust you to Madame Lulu, you'll run errands for her ; you'll be good, obedient until your father returns.} +Madame Lulu comes down the stairs, bends over Ism\`{e}ne, my eyes are covered up, a recruiter brings some butter in his hand, Madame Lulu takes the butter, places it on Ism\`{e}ne's cunt, Ism\`{e}ne gives a start, Lulu's hand sinks between her thighs, I shudder, wine is seething in my mouth and belly. Draga fastens the captain's belt ; the captain pushes his head down and makes him kiss the badge on the belt ; dust wheels around the lamps, the fountains sing in the night outside, my father who cover yourself in a stolen blanket, and roll against your fighter comrades, come down, come and cover me with your blanket, carry me far away from here, no, leave Draga alone, he doesn't want to, up there, I can play with the soldiers, tell them : \speech{I give you my son, crucify him on your mattresses, drink his sperm, all of you drink it.} My father, you undress and I'm already in bed, your clothes fall on the dark tiled floor, I watch the hair of your cock, you squat down, pull the blanket over you and lie against me, your lips are shining ; the tortured man screams in the night ; the soldiers drink inside the iron green tents ; the sentry paces before the open door ; I go to sleep and in the morning I wake up, alone, your clothes are on the floor, the captain is crouching, he throws the clothes on my chest : \speech{Bring him back home and keep him.} Soldiers lift me by the shoulders and push me out ; other soldiers stand assembled under the flag ; pieces of meat are stirring against the wood. My house is cold ; Madame Lulu comes to play with the soldiers, I am sitting on my father's mattress, the soldiers stroke Madame Lulu's shoulders, she comes to sit by me, she takes my chin, she tucks up my lips, knocks my teeth with her nails, a soldier comes forward, his hand presses my thighs, he says : \speech{The captain said : kill him, but we pity you, we'll kill a goat and lie on our mattresses with our hands bloody ; as for you, we entrust you to Madame Lulu, you'll run errands for her ; you'll be good, obedient until your father returns.} -Madame Lulu smiles to me and strokes my hair, she draws me against her, I climb into the jeep, Madame Lulu lays her hands on the soldiers' shoulders, the warm wind raises the dust inside the jeep ; in Madame Lulu's house, there are colours on the ceiling, behind the bar, she pours drinks to the soldiers, they leave : \said{Come back, my darlings, every evening, free. I have what you need.} +Madame Lulu smiles to me and strokes my hair, she draws me against her, I climb into the jeep, Madame Lulu lays her hands on the soldiers' shoulders, the warm wind raises the dust inside the jeep ; in Madame Lulu's house, there are colours on the ceiling, behind the bar, she pours drinks to the soldiers, they leave : \speech{Come back, my darlings, every evening, free. I have what you need.} -\ldots\ Then, she comes closer to me, takes my chain and my medal, makes it jump in her hand, turns it over : \said{Show me your penis.} +\ldots\ Then, she comes closer to me, takes my chain and my medal, makes it jump in her hand, turns it over : \speech{Show me your penis.} I unbutton myself, but already, with her cold firm hand, she lifts my penis from between the thighs, she rolls it between her hands~: @@ -4163,11 +4168,11 @@ I unbutton myself, but already, with her cold firm hand, she lifts my penis from She tucks up her dress, her belly is bare, her little labia open up between her thighs, I'm trembling~: ---- You see these little lips ? Put your willy in there. You'll see how nice it feels. +--- You see these little lips~? Put your willy in there. You'll see how nice it feels. I climb on her knees, the smell of grilled meat comes from the kitchen, Madame Lulu takes my cock, she rubs it against her little labia, she gently drives it in and don't feel anything any more, it's water, I'm swivelling on water ; Madame Lulu wanks me, my head rolls on my shoulder, my father I lick my blood on your knees : ---- Go and sit by the gentleman, over there, and say to him: \said{Drink, sir, drink.} +{\sloppy --- Go and sit by the gentleman, over there, and say to him: \speech{Drink, sir, drink.} \par} Night has fallen, the door lamp lights up the road works and the roadmen's caravans ; Ism\`{e}ne comes down the stairs, she bends over me and kisses my cheek, she makes me sit on her knees. @@ -4175,7 +4180,7 @@ Night has fallen, the door lamp lights up the road works and the roadmen's carav \ldots\ In the middle of the night, the soaked underpants flap on the boys' bellies ; the foot of the table is between my thighs, the men come and go between -the caravans and the brothel! ; my shoulder bears the burn from a worker's lantern +the caravans and the brothel~! ; my shoulder bears the burn from a worker's lantern ; my fingers brush my chest, they glide on the sperm ; I'm scintillating, the darkest hollows in my body are scintillating ; a man, kneeling in front of me is daubing his face with my soaked underpants ; Draga inside the room, his mouth is black, open @@ -4191,7 +4196,7 @@ Petrilion falls asleep under the basement window, the recruiters, in the common Ism\`{e}ne, coming down the half-burnt stairs, wipes the boy's mouth with a cloth, the recruiter returns to sit in the backroom, with his knife he cuts off the chair's charred feet, he looks up, smiles, wipes his knife on his thigh, Ism\`{e}ne hugs the boy, draws him away, towards the bench, lays him on the overheated leather, sits against his leg, wipes the boy's face, pulls the underpants up over his cock again, ties it on the hip ; the recruiters go down to the storeroom~: ---- I went to the harbour a while ago, the governor's wife and son were sitting in a green boat, they were throwing white bread to the birds, and the small children were fighting over it with the birds. I saw your sister, her dress slit on the thigh, she was hooking the fishermen, she'd put her hand on their thigh ; the boat where the governor's wife and son were sitting, was rocking on the flames, he was holding her hand, his bare foot was pushing away the fish heads on the wet sand at the bottom of the boat. Your sister Ifé was eating a piece of bread, with the other hand she was stroking the fishermen's thigh. Look, the sun has burnt my forehead. The soldiers were looking for the governor's wife and son, they were encircling the warehouses, a soldier strikes my shoulder with the butt of his weapon ; a black stream, of gall and soot, was running out of the warehouse, moving forward on the sand, its head and body in the sun ; other boys, other girls, are displayed in the higher part of the city ; the recruiters have formed an alliance, B\'{e}ja has it shouted that they'll be slaughtered and castrated when he enters the city. +--- I went to the harbour a while ago, the governor's wife and son were sitting in a green boat, they were throwing white bread to the birds, and the small children were fighting over it with the birds. I saw your sister, her dress slit on the thigh, she was hooking the fishermen, she'd put her hand on their thigh ; the boat where the governor's wife and son were sitting, was rocking on the flames, he was holding her hand, his bare foot was pushing away the fish heads on the wet sand at the bottom of the boat. Your sister If\'e was eating a piece of bread, with the other hand she was stroking the fishermen's thigh. Look, the sun has burnt my forehead. The soldiers were looking for the governor's wife and son, they were encircling the warehouses, a soldier strikes my shoulder with the butt of his weapon ; a black stream, of gall and soot, was running out of the warehouse, moving forward on the sand, its head and body in the sun ; other boys, other girls, are displayed in the higher part of the city ; the recruiters have formed an alliance, B\'eja has it shouted that they'll be slaughtered and castrated when he enters the city. \ldots\ Petrilion is locked up in the storeroom, listens to his shouting, Madame Lulu was protecting him, Draga was jealous, Draga is gone, he ran away in the mountain with the laundry girl. The soldiers surround the boat, the governor's wife and son get up, a soldier lays his hand on the thigh of the governor's wife. it's Emilienne, the sister used to bathe us together at nightfall ; the son strikes the soldier, a jeep is driving down towards the harbour : the general is inside, he watches the narrow streets, his hand is lying on the driver's thigh, tight in the battledress, the children fly around the jeep ; Kment's brothers are exhibiting themselves on the pier, the jeep drives through the spray, as he goes past the general strokes the cheeks and the thighs of Kment's brothers, the jeep stops, the general gets down then presses his finger on a boy's belly, he goes to sit in the middle of the stairs going down into the sea, the soldiers grab the boy, they push him down the stairs, the general makes him sit on the steps above him, then he tilts his head between the little boy's thighs and rolls it and rubs it against the cock tenderly swollen under the light shorts, the soldiers are guarding the stairs, pushing the unbuttoned children away. Sleep, I am sitting by you, I protect you. Listen to Petrilion's cries. Every night he comes down, he comes to take me, he lifts my head open on the hole of wind and flies, he takes me in his arms, he strokes me, he wipes me, his knee cracks under my loins, his chest is gluey. When he takes my knees from underneath, his taut, erect cock swells, sparkles against his belly ; he lays me along him on the straw mattress, Draga's bed is empty ; all the boys have soap on their pubic hair ; Petrilion falls asleep, Draga comes out of the darkness ; Petrilion is sleeping, his arm raised and folded under the nape, Draga completely naked stands over Petrilion, he takes his cock, watches me, the cock rises, Draga kneads his balls, he fingers the rim of his own asshole, I close my eyes, the cock is growing taut under the moon, Draga, without a noise, gives it a wank, the rubbing, Draga's slight panting, the ebb and flow of his saliva behind the teeth, the throbbing of his throat disturb Petrilion's sleep, Petrilion stirs on the mattress, his throat swallows the saliva, his lips curl up, he whines, Draga masturbates, his stiffened muscles jut out all along his body, his knees jump, sperm gushes out, Draga guides his cock towards Petrilion's open armpit, sperm spatters the hair, Draga presses his cock all along, from the root to the red and vibrating tip, sperm runs on the straw mattress, gushes out, transparent, like mother of pearl ; Petrilion wakes up, he closes his arm, sperm smacks under the armpit, Petrilion leaps forward, Draga lolls back on his mattress and closes his eyes, Petrilion jumps on him, he grabs his throat, Draga's hands claw Petrilion's arms, the other boys awaken, sit up on their mattresses, clap their hands, Petrilion screams, his hand covers Draga's mouth and nostrils ; a boy closes the window and comes back to sit on his mattress ; Draga throws his legs against Petrilion's chest, I remain lying, my elbow leaning on the wet spot of the mattress, I watch them fight, spit, claw, strangle each other, I fall asleep, the palms brush my hips, the great white sailing ship shines in the bay, her sails get entangled in the green foliage, the sun rises and caresses my cheek, and I can feel its apricot scent, it's watching me and tearing my dress, I rest in the linen, the small multicoloured birds beat their wings above me, fly away, come back with their beak sweetened, scintillating they soar down, settle on my belly, rummage between the shreds of my dress : couples appear on the ship's deck, they dance between the ropes, the dresses brush the links and the silver hoopings, the music is played by young boys dressed in white, their back and buttocks wet by the spray, the silver ring of their lower lip jingles against the mouthpiece of the flute ; they see me, they smile, a bird flies by my smile, a dancer girl leaves the ship, she comes to sit on the deck chair, her dress unfurls on my leg~: @@ -4211,7 +4216,7 @@ When the boy shows his face, the ring on his lips sparkles, a recruiter strikes He lifts the boy's head with his feet, he pulls the whip away, the boy's head comes with the whip, the recruiter presses his shoe on the boy's cheek, and he pulls the lash, it slips out of the boy's mouth~: ---- To the hounds. The soldiers at the lighthouse have a new hound ; it has already killed fwo bitches while mating. +--- To the hounds. The soldiers at the lighthouse have a new hound ; it has already killed two bitches while mating. The recruiter turns the boy's head over with his shoe~: @@ -4221,13 +4226,13 @@ The boy straightens himself, gets up leaning against the wall, his underpants ha --- I'll play the little snail, you'll be the big one\ldots -The recruiter strokes the boy's trampled cheek, his hand moves down on his back, as far as the buttocks, the finger presses on the rim of the collar, the hand moves up in front, lifts the testicles, the penis ; two hard fingers feel the tip of the penis, the nail pricks the membrane ; the hand runs between the iegs, comes out of the underpants, the recruiter wipes it on the boy's shoulders~: +The recruiter strokes the boy's trampled cheek, his hand moves down on his back, as far as the buttocks, the finger presses on the rim of the collar, the hand moves up in front, lifts the testicles, the penis ; two hard fingers feel the tip of the penis, the nail pricks the membrane ; the hand runs between the legs, comes out of the underpants, the recruiter wipes it on the boy's shoulders~: --- No, you'll go to the hounds, you've got everything to please them, in front, behind. Move off, go back upstairs, get some practice with the brutal customers. The boy follows the recruiter as far as the underground passage, the recruiter lifts the hatch, makes the boy pass in front of him and kisses his thigh as he goes past ; they leave the hut, night has fallen, insects are hopping in the moonlight ; across the valley in which the river enters backwards, trucks and jeeps crush the mud-soiled flowers ; the boy shivers, his lips, his nostrils quiver at every noise, every breath ; the recruiter takes him by the hand, and drags him towards the lit-up brothel. The child sits on a chair in the backroom, the recruiter looks back~: ---- What's wrong with you ? Are you coming ? If you're tired, drink some spirits, or vomit, go to the main room, you'll warm up quick. +--- What's wrong with you~? Are you coming~? If you're tired, drink some spirits, or vomit, go to the main room, you'll warm up quick. The boy yawns, his hands tight between his thighs. @@ -4266,7 +4271,7 @@ Ism\`{e}ne is standing on a table, naked, a piece of crumpled newspaper between --- The whip. -A man throws his mouth on Petrilion's shoulders, licks the blood, Petrilion tilts his head slightly forwards, the man hooks his fingers to the shoulders ; another pulls at Petrilion's underpants, draws the boy against his leg, licks the bloody tips of the nipples ; the boy with the hose is lying on the bench ; pale, shaking, a leg dragging from the bench, on the tiled floor ; a man grabs that leg, he pulls the boy, makes him slide out of the bench, lays him on the tiled floor under his body, the boy vomits, the man kisses him on the mouth, the child's vomit enters his mouth again, the man takes the boy's head, makes it ring on the tiled floor, the boy goes on vomiting, the man gets up again, wipes his mouth and throat on the boy's underpants, tramples the boy ; Ism\`{e}ne falls in the men's arms, Petrilion climbs on the table, blood runs on his bare legs, a man pulls off his underpants ; the blood, stopped at the navel, streams on the pubic hair ; the same man, leaning on the table, flings his mouth towards the boy's cock, Petrilion steps back, another man, behind him, bites his leg, Petrilion moves forward, the man whose tongue is touching his cock, bites it, Petrilion moves forward again, the man takes the cock between his fingers, pulls the boy, licks the blood on the locks ; then, he takes the testicles, pulls them downwards, the boy squats down, sits on the tabie, a man grabs his feet, he pulls them, the boy collapses, stretching his arms out sideways, head rolling on the edge of the table. +A man throws his mouth on Petrilion's shoulders, licks the blood, Petrilion tilts his head slightly forwards, the man hooks his fingers to the shoulders ; another pulls at Petrilion's underpants, draws the boy against his leg, licks the bloody tips of the nipples ; the boy with the hose is lying on the bench ; pale, shaking, a leg dragging from the bench, on the tiled floor ; a man grabs that leg, he pulls the boy, makes him slide out of the bench, lays him on the tiled floor under his body, the boy vomits, the man kisses him on the mouth, the child's vomit enters his mouth again, the man takes the boy's head, makes it ring on the tiled floor, the boy goes on vomiting, the man gets up again, wipes his mouth and throat on the boy's underpants, tramples the boy ; Ism\`{e}ne falls in the men's arms, Petrilion climbs on the table, blood runs on his bare legs, a man pulls off his underpants ; the blood, stopped at the navel, streams on the pubic hair ; the same man, leaning on the table, flings his mouth towards the boy's cock, Petrilion steps back, another man, behind him, bites his leg, Petrilion moves forward, the man whose tongue is touching his cock, bites it, Petrilion moves forward again, the man takes the cock between his fingers, pulls the boy, licks the blood on the locks ; then, he takes the testicles, pulls them downwards, the boy squats down, sits on the table, a man grabs his feet, he pulls them, the boy collapses, stretching his arms out sideways, head rolling on the edge of the table. The man who was biting his legs puts his head between his thighs, Petrilion's lips open up under the man's cock, the jeans' cloth is crumpled, damp, soiled with lime, the man tightens his thighs, squeezes the boy's cheeks ; the man who got the underpants, raises a leg, slips the pants on, pulls them on his thighs, laces them on the hip ; the pants, tightened on the jeans, crack~: @@ -4274,11 +4279,11 @@ The man who was biting his legs puts his head between his thighs, Petrilion's li The man walks, the underpants crack on the front, from top to bottom ; the man leans on the counter, he orders a glass for Draga ; Draga, back from the fragrant grass, has two men under him giving him a wank and sucking his cock, but neither his face nor his shoulders shake ; he takes the bottle, fills the glass, holds it out for the man. -The man grabs the boy's wrist, strokes his arm ; Draga smiles, the man drinks the wine, but his hand strokes the boy's arm, crushes it on the counter ; the recruiter passes behind the man, he walks to the table where Petrilion is lying ; the man holding Petrilion's head between his thighs has his mouth open, he pants while tightening and opening his thighs ; the recruiter pushes aside the men bending over Petrilion and licking him and kneading all of his body ; he touches the boy's shoulder : \said{Petrilion, your injection.} +The man grabs the boy's wrist, strokes his arm ; Draga smiles, the man drinks the wine, but his hand strokes the boy's arm, crushes it on the counter ; the recruiter passes behind the man, he walks to the table where Petrilion is lying ; the man holding Petrilion's head between his thighs has his mouth open, he pants while tightening and opening his thighs ; the recruiter pushes aside the men bending over Petrilion and licking him and kneading all of his body ; he touches the boy's shoulder : \speech{Petrilion, your injection.} The boy stirs, he frees his head, the man opens his thighs~: ---- The injections ? We'll have the hounds tonight ? And it's Petrilion~? +--- The injections~? We'll have the hounds tonight~? And it's Petrilion~? The boy gets down from the table, the recruiter takes him by the shoulder, the man, at the counter, unlaces the underpants, he throws them to Petrilion, the boy catches them ; on the underpants, in front and behind, sperm runs, that of the boy, who got a wank from the man before climbing on the table. @@ -4288,7 +4293,7 @@ The recruiter takes the boy to the backroom where an old woman is waiting, sitti Petrilion starts trembling, he goes to the far end of the room, takes a small saucepan from the sink, fills it with water, he lays it on the gas ring, he lights the gas, he turns back and remains leaning against the sink, his back and loins in the cool, he watches the woman bending over the syringes, and the recruiter standing before her, knife hanging on the hip ; the water seethes, the boy doesn't move, he's trembling, blood withdraws from his forehead, his cheeks, his throat, the woman looks up~: ---- Can't you see the water is boiling ? Bring it and lie on the table. Hurry up. +--- Can't you see the water is boiling~? Bring it and lie on the table. Hurry up. The boy lifts the pan, the steam wets his face and chest, he lays the pan on the table, the woman presses her finger on the middle of the table, Petrilion climbs, he lies down on his belly. @@ -4336,7 +4341,7 @@ The woman moves away, the recruiter comes back into the garden : the men are wai Draga pushes aside the two men who were under him, leaves the room, his underpants in his hand ; the recruiter goes up to the boys' room, Petrilion is lying on his paillasse, his arms unfolded along his body, his hands are shaking on his thighs : the recruiter bends over him, sniffs at his face. ---- You smell good, the hound will enjoy its little fianc\'{e}e. +--- You smell good, the hound will enjoy its little fianc\'ee. The boy remains lying ; under the recruiter's breath, his eyebrows flutter but his eyes are wide open, the recruiter strokes his shoulder~: @@ -4346,7 +4351,7 @@ The recruiter goes down again, the other recruiters are drinking at the counter, Draga, in the cellar, sits on the soldiers' knees, his whole body gets spattered with stains of fat ; in the garden, shadows crowd around the hut, two recruiters come out, they speak to the shadows, they push them through the hatch ; men and women come to light in the underground passage : Draga, sprawled on the tent canvas, under a soldier, gets up again and places himself at the entrance of the big cellar ; the hound is barking in the storeroom ; Draga holds out his hand, a woman passes in front of him, and moves away, Draga holds her back by the shoulder, the woman turns round. ---- Draga ! I'm the one who dipped your cock in the cup. +--- Draga~! I'm the one who dipped your cock in the cup. --- Pay. @@ -4358,13 +4363,13 @@ The electric bulb, above the boy, throws reflections on his hair soapy with sper --- A fourth wank and just before the sperm comes out, pull your cock out in one go. It will release it. -The soldiers lean on the wall again, the boy stiffens his legs, --- the dog laid its claws on the boy's feet, --- he fucks gently, by small pressure and slight touches, he strokes with the tip of his fingers the outer membrane of the dog's asshole ; sperm fises, swells the cock, the dog relaxes its asshole for a second, the boy then pulls his cock, in one go ; the dog tightens its asshole on the tip of the cock, but the boy with his fingers pulls the asshole apart ; his whole cock is out, he turns it towards the men and women, the cock is red, crumpled, it falls back, softened inside the underpants, on the right thigh ; the boy sits down on the tent canvas, the dog turns back, the boy puts his arms on his knees, the dog licks his feet, it slips its mouth between the boy's knees and rummages between his thighs, spreading them apart with its muzzle, it licks the sperm still squirting out wetting the underpants, thrusts its tongue in the slit, pulls out the cock ; the boy then lolls on his back, spreads his thighs, his legs, he gives himself up to the dog which lays its paw on the boy's chest and licks the sweat from his throat and from his chest and its own foam, but it goes back to the boy's cock, nibbles the underpants, licks the pubic hair, bites a flap of the tear, holds it between its teeth, pulls, the underpants tear, the dog foams, shakes its mouth, hooks the tear with the claws of its front paw ; the tear opens up as far as under the cock, bares the balls, the dog sniffs at them, licks them, its tongue sinks as far as under the buttocks, touches the edge of the asshole ; the boy, his arms folded under the nape, laughs, raises his buttocks, the dog growls, brings back its muzzle on the boy's belly, licks the navel ; then it bites the underpants again, pulls, lifts the boy's thigh ; the underpants become unlaced on the hip, the dog brings back the freed flap upon the boy's other thigh, the lace unrolls under its teeth, it spits it out on the boy's belly, it drags its own cock, reddened, on the boy's leg, sperm wets Petrilion's knee, the dog lowers its belly, weighing on the boy's thigh, the animal's cock touches the boy's, which hardens slightly ; the dog yaps, bends, over Petrilion's belly, and thus moves up as far as the child's face, its cock dragging on his lips, he, without trembling, opens them and sucks that huge pointed cock ; the dog's sperm fills his mouth, as bitter as gall, the boy shuts his eyes ; the dog licks his hair, its whole belly weighs upon the child's face, its coat is wet ; the dog's paws claw the coaly earth, the tent canvas, crumpled, rolled up, covers the boy's hips and shoulders, black dust flies round, Petrilion's body is covered with black trails, the dog moves forward, turns back ; this time its tongue burrows into the boy's thighs, the boy takes the dog's cock above his lips, he squeezes it, sperm gushes out, spatters his eyes and forehead, he puts the cock in his mouth, and bathes it in his saliva, the dog raises its tail, its wet eyes watch the men and women, its shaken loins, its tail sweeps the ground, behind the boy's head ; the boy pushes back the dog's belly, he gets up and leaning on his elbow he pushes away the dog, which weighs on his chest and growls, the boy goes on all fours, the dog turns back, sniffs at the child's buttocks, licks them, the boy, keeping his buttocks raised, lowers the upper part of his body on the canvas ; the dog lays its front paws on the boy's loins, and flattens its thighs against Petrilion's buttocks, it rubs its belly against them, it waddles, its cock sinks between the buttocks of the boy who straightens the upper part of his body and leans on his hands ; the dog pushes its cock, its hind legs quiver, scratch the canvas, it rubs its humid belly on the boy's loins, its dribble runs, spatters Petrilion's back, runs between the ribs and the swell of the hips and as far as the nape ; the dog's sperm, burning hot, enters the lower part of the boy's body, Petrilion raises his head, he sees the soldiers leaning against the wall ; they have hard-ons under their battledress ; the men and women, most of them standing, watch the dog push the boy and gradually throw him over ; the tent canvas is wet, the boy pushes back the dog's mouth with his hand, he tries to get up again, the dog remains stuck to him, so the boy moves towards the soldiers, the dog makes small steps, it hooks its front paws to the boy's belly, it embraces him ; a soldier pulls his cock out of his battledress and holds it straight, he grabs the boy by the hair and draws him towards his thighs, the boy opens his mouth, he bites the cock of the soldier, who stiffens against the wall ; the boy, still tied to the dog masturbates the soldier's cock, the tip gets crushed on his nostrils, he licks it, sperm swells the cock, gushes out, the boy takes the tip of the cock between his lips, he sucks up, the burning sperm chokes him ; the dog rubs, it yaps, it groans ; the dog's sperm and the soldier's sperm join and mix on the boy's chest ; the big toe of his right foot gets caught in a ring of the canvas ; the soldier relaxes, his heavy breathing wheezes louder than the dog's ; the soldier stiffens again, the boy catches his thighs and holds the tip of the softened cock between his lips, but this time the soldier masturbates on his own ; the dog releases its sperm between the boy's buttocks, it nibbles his loins ; the tip of his pointed cock tickles the bladder of the boy who laughs and his teeth tighten up on the soldier's cock. The soldier utters a little groan ; the boy takes the cock out of his mouth, wipes his gluey lips, the soldier throws his knee against his throat, the boy chokes, the dog shaken by the boy's cough growls and braces itself with even more fury ; the boy wants to escape, the soldier passes behind the dog, he pulls its tail, the dog growls, turns its head back, bites the soldier's knee, he strikes the dog on its loins, the dog turns back again, its cock gets twisted inside the boy's asshole, its claws scratch Petrilion's back, the boy groans, cries. The recruiter comes forward~: +The soldiers lean on the wall again, the boy stiffens his legs, --- the dog laid its claws on the boy's feet, --- he fucks gently, by small pressure and slight touches, he strokes with the tip of his fingers the outer membrane of the dog's asshole ; sperm rises, swells the cock, the dog relaxes its asshole for a second, the boy then pulls his cock, in one go ; the dog tightens its asshole on the tip of the cock, but the boy with his fingers pulls the asshole apart ; his whole cock is out, he turns it towards the men and women, the cock is red, crumpled, it falls back, softened inside the underpants, on the right thigh ; the boy sits down on the tent canvas, the dog turns back, the boy puts his arms on his knees, the dog licks his feet, it slips its mouth between the boy's knees and rummages between his thighs, spreading them apart with its muzzle, it licks the sperm still squirting out wetting the underpants, thrusts its tongue in the slit, pulls out the cock ; the boy then lolls on his back, spreads his thighs, his legs, he gives himself up to the dog which lays its paw on the boy's chest and licks the sweat from his throat and from his chest and its own foam, but it goes back to the boy's cock, nibbles the underpants, licks the pubic hair, bites a flap of the tear, holds it between its teeth, pulls, the underpants tear, the dog foams, shakes its mouth, hooks the tear with the claws of its front paw ; the tear opens up as far as under the cock, bares the balls, the dog sniffs at them, licks them, its tongue sinks as far as under the buttocks, touches the edge of the asshole ; the boy, his arms folded under the nape, laughs, raises his buttocks, the dog growls, brings back its muzzle on the boy's belly, licks the navel ; then it bites the underpants again, pulls, lifts the boy's thigh ; the underpants become unlaced on the hip, the dog brings back the freed flap upon the boy's other thigh, the lace unrolls under its teeth, it spits it out on the boy's belly, it drags its own cock, reddened, on the boy's leg, sperm wets Petrilion's knee, the dog lowers its belly, weighing on the boy's thigh, the animal's cock touches the boy's, which hardens slightly ; the dog yaps, bends, over Petrilion's belly, and thus moves up as far as the child's face, its cock dragging on his lips, he, without trembling, opens them and sucks that huge pointed cock ; the dog's sperm fills his mouth, as bitter as gall, the boy shuts his eyes ; the dog licks his hair, its whole belly weighs upon the child's face, its coat is wet ; the dog's paws claw the coaly earth, the tent canvas, crumpled, rolled up, covers the boy's hips and shoulders, black dust flies round, Petrilion's body is covered with black trails, the dog moves forward, turns back ; this time its tongue burrows into the boy's thighs, the boy takes the dog's cock above his lips, he squeezes it, sperm gushes out, spatters his eyes and forehead, he puts the cock in his mouth, and bathes it in his saliva, the dog raises its tail, its wet eyes watch the men and women, its shaken loins, its tail sweeps the ground, behind the boy's head ; the boy pushes back the dog's belly, he gets up and leaning on his elbow he pushes away the dog, which weighs on his chest and growls, the boy goes on all fours, the dog turns back, sniffs at the child's buttocks, licks them, the boy, keeping his buttocks raised, lowers the upper part of his body on the canvas ; the dog lays its front paws on the boy's loins, and flattens its thighs against Petrilion's buttocks, it rubs its belly against them, it waddles, its cock sinks between the buttocks of the boy who straightens the upper part of his body and leans on his hands ; the dog pushes its cock, its hind legs quiver, scratch the canvas, it rubs its humid belly on the boy's loins, its dribble runs, spatters Petrilion's back, runs between the ribs and the swell of the hips and as far as the nape ; the dog's sperm, burning hot, enters the lower part of the boy's body, Petrilion raises his head, he sees the soldiers leaning against the wall ; they have hard-ons under their battledress ; the men and women, most of them standing, watch the dog push the boy and gradually throw him over ; the tent canvas is wet, the boy pushes back the dog's mouth with his hand, he tries to get up again, the dog remains stuck to him, so the boy moves towards the soldiers, the dog makes small steps, it hooks its front paws to the boy's belly, it embraces him ; a soldier pulls his cock out of his battledress and holds it straight, he grabs the boy by the hair and draws him towards his thighs, the boy opens his mouth, he bites the cock of the soldier, who stiffens against the wall ; the boy, still tied to the dog masturbates the soldier's cock, the tip gets crushed on his nostrils, he licks it, sperm swells the cock, gushes out, the boy takes the tip of the cock between his lips, he sucks up, the burning sperm chokes him ; the dog rubs, it yaps, it groans ; the dog's sperm and the soldier's sperm join and mix on the boy's chest ; the big toe of his right foot gets caught in a ring of the canvas ; the soldier relaxes, his heavy breathing wheezes louder than the dog's ; the soldier stiffens again, the boy catches his thighs and holds the tip of the softened cock between his lips, but this time the soldier masturbates on his own ; the dog releases its sperm between the boy's buttocks, it nibbles his loins ; the tip of his pointed cock tickles the bladder of the boy who laughs and his teeth tighten up on the soldier's cock. The soldier utters a little groan ; the boy takes the cock out of his mouth, wipes his gluey lips, the soldier throws his knee against his throat, the boy chokes, the dog shaken by the boy's cough growls and braces itself with even more fury ; the boy wants to escape, the soldier passes behind the dog, he pulls its tail, the dog growls, turns its head back, bites the soldier's knee, he strikes the dog on its loins, the dog turns back again, its cock gets twisted inside the boy's asshole, its claws scratch Petrilion's back, the boy groans, cries. The recruiter comes forward~: --- That's enough, take your hound back. The soldiers grab the dog by the breast ; one of them pulls out of his battledress pocket a piece of fresh meat, which has stuck the cloth at the knee, he places it in front of the dog's fangs, the fangs vibrate on the boy's back, the dog smells the meat, it raises its head, the soldier steps back, the dog throws its fangs forward, the soldier moves further back, the dog tears itself away from the boy, brutal, chafing his hips with its claws, it throws itself on the piece of meat, it snatches it, it drags it, in the dust, shakes it, tramples it, tears it, on the boy's foot. -Petrilion, his hands still warm and crumpled, his cock softened and burnt, his lips, his eyelids gluey, remains lying on the ground ; the soldiers tie up the dog again, they take him out of the cellar, they make him climb the ladder, the dog growls, his fangs vibrate against the soldiers' eyebrows ; they go out into the garden, the dog sniffs at the ground, it leaps, it yaps, it sniffs its coat around the asshole, its muzzle, sparkling in the moonlight ; its cock drips under the belly ; inside the cellar, Petrilion, sprawled on the canvas, eyes shut, shivers in the cool of the black earth ; men and women get up from the chairs, they bend over the child, they observe his blackened body, gluey, battered, bloody, they bend over, they touch, with the tip of the fingers, the cock, littie wet ember, in the tuft of black down ; a woman squats down, kisses the boy's bloody foot ; Petrilion doesn't move, his whole body is trembling ; Draga, once the men and women have left, squats down ; the recruiter goes up to the garden, closes the fence, takes Petrilion's hand, lifts him under the shoulders, unsticks his eyelids, he unlaces the underpants, on the right hip, the cock sticks to the cloth, Draga pulls the cloth, gently unsticks the cock, the boy opens his eyes, groans ; Draga strokes, tenderly, Petrilion's gluey belly, he pulls off the pants in one go, he throws them on the tent canvas, Petrilion picks it up, he holds it out to Draga, Draga unfolds it, holds the slits, he shakes it above Draga's eyes : +Petrilion, his hands still warm and crumpled, his cock softened and burnt, his lips, his eyelids gluey, remains lying on the ground ; the soldiers tie up the dog again, they take him out of the cellar, they make him climb the ladder, the dog growls, his fangs vibrate against the soldiers' eyebrows ; they go out into the garden, the dog sniffs at the ground, it leaps, it yaps, it sniffs its coat around the asshole, its muzzle, sparkling in the moonlight ; its cock drips under the belly ; inside the cellar, Petrilion, sprawled on the canvas, eyes shut, shivers in the cool of the black earth ; men and women get up from the chairs, they bend over the child, they observe his blackened body, gluey, battered, bloody, they bend over, they touch, with the tip of the fingers, the cock, little wet ember, in the tuft of black down ; a woman squats down, kisses the boy's bloody foot ; Petrilion doesn't move, his whole body is trembling ; Draga, once the men and women have left, squats down ; the recruiter goes up to the garden, closes the fence, takes Petrilion's hand, lifts him under the shoulders, unsticks his eyelids, he unlaces the underpants, on the right hip, the cock sticks to the cloth, Draga pulls the cloth, gently unsticks the cock, the boy opens his eyes, groans ; Draga strokes, tenderly, Petrilion's gluey belly, he pulls off the pants in one go, he throws them on the tent canvas, Petrilion picks it up, he holds it out to Draga, Draga unfolds it, holds the slits, he shakes it above Draga's eyes : --- See how much it has loved you. @@ -4422,7 +4427,7 @@ The recruiter rolls over the boy, Draga laughs, the recruiter's hairy chest crus Sea in the distance rolls on the beaches, cool rises from the garden, the boy huddles under the recruiter whose lips touch his eyes, the boy opens them wide, the recruiter licks them with his tongue, in the same time, his hand covers Draga's belly ; the boy turns over on his belly, the recruiter spreads his buttocks apart, he drives his taut cock in ; sea rolls pebbles at the bottom of the coves, crabs climb up steep rocks, octopuses lie in wait for them in the holes of the walls, they throw out their tentacles and wind them round the crab's claws, they pull it towards the rock, inside their holes, and gobble it up, the shell cracks in their beaks, they spit out the claws, the feelers, fragments of shell ; the recruiter licks the boy's shaven head, the hollow of his ears, the honey of his ears, wind runs on his back, as far as the nape ; he strokes the boy's temples, buried under the bedspread ; the boy falls asleep, the recruiter masturbates, bites the boy's ear, Draga wakes up, the recruiter licks his temple~: ---- You were forgetting me ? Some clients said you used to dream aloud : \speech{Manure, rats, Spring, cave\ldots} You took your powder tonight~? +--- You were forgetting me~? Some clients said you used to dream aloud : \speech{Manure, rats, Spring, cave\ldots} You took your powder tonight~? --- Yes, but I feel sleepy. @@ -4432,7 +4437,7 @@ A few men, with hard-ons, wander around the brothel, hoist themselves up to the On the surface of the sea, trails of light cross one another at the spot on the horizon where the sun has set ; solitary birds dive, pluck the small fish asleep on the tufts of seaweed or fascinated by the anemones' phosphorescent heart. -\chapter{Fifth Chant} +\chapter{Fifth Song} Thivai wakes up before the brothel shuts its lights out at dawn ; he gets out of the sleeping bag ; cocks crow on the top of the hill, under the highest watchtower : the Eiffel tower ; between the bars of the small basement window, their red combs jump among the heavy grass ; the sentry climbs down the ladder, his rifle clinks against the protection sheet ; Thivai lies back again on the sleeping bag, the tall wet trees pour their dew on the red roof of the command post. Thivai feels a lump in his throat, he covers his belly with his hands. Sun flashes through the basement window, dazzles the boy~: @@ -4440,7 +4445,7 @@ Thivai wakes up before the brothel shuts its lights out at dawn ; he gets out of Thivai remains silent ; Xaintrailles squats down, looks through the window, sees Thivai lying on the camp bed, motionless, legs parted, battledress jacket covering the middle of the body~: ---- Thivai, can't you hear me ? Can't you see me~? +--- Thivai, can't you hear me~? Can't you see me~? The boy keeps his eyes wide open, lice nibble his shaven head. Xaintrailles gets up again, he rubs his hands and knees. @@ -4456,11 +4461,11 @@ The officer comes back~: --- Shave the traitor. -I smile, I look down, the hairdresser is trembling, the blade grazes my head and the tip of my ear, the officer crushes my bare toes with his red leather shoe ; the hairdresser wipes his fingers on the cloth tied around my neck, the cut hairs fall, brush my ears, my nostrils, get caught on my eyebrows, mummy, I don't want the hairdresser to cut my locks, mummy sits on the armchair, she strokes my knee, she takes a magazine, she opens it over her knees ; behind the partition, there is V\'{e}ronique, her aunt is standing, the hairdresser girl pushes her away gently, V\'{e}ronique makes signs in the mirror ; my cut hairs get caught in the honeycomb pattern of my shirt ; mummy goes out without her handbag, she walks in the rain along the river ; the hairdresser looks around, he puts his hand on my pants' warm flannel, his hand moves up along my thigh, I look at V\'{e}ronique, it's she who's caressing me, mummy shouts and cries in the rain ; the dockers are dragging the barbed wire through the mud ; mummy bites her wet scarf ; the hairdresser's hand sinks between my thighs, I push the hand away ; the other hand moves down along my chest, my knees knock against the marble basin, it sways, the hairdresser girl looks back, the hairdresser's hand remains open on my quivering chest, mummy shakes her shoes against the door, she comes in, it's night already, she takes my little hands in her wet hands, I get off the armchair, mummy pays the hairdresser, he pushes me against the door, mummy leads me through the black streets to the river. The dockers are warming themselves over a coal fire ; they whistle ; mummy takes me in her arms, she leaps through the mist, she climbs up the jetty, she runs on the cement ; the rocks are covered with snow, I struggle, mummy squeezes me against her breasts, I bite her hand, a tow boat whose lit-up portholes cast gleams on the black and oily sea, comes down the estuary ; mummy flings herself --- I bite her hand, her arms drop me, I fall on the stairs ; mummy rolls on the rocks and dives into the sea, froth covers her up, I writhe on the steps of the staircase ; a wave carries away mummy's head, her hands slip on the smooth and shiny rock ; the tow boat turns, sailors are running on deck, they release a dinghy, jump inside, row towards the jetty, the stars light up between the clouds, my head is bathing in a pool of gall ; a sailor jumps on the staircase, he lifts me in his arms, he kisses my cheek and my forehead ; the other sailors plunge the oars, bring back mummy's body on the large flat rock ; my legs, my back are broken, the sailor runs on the jetty, he crosses the harbour, he jumps over the camp fence, a soldier runs after him, the sailor stops in front of a lit up tent, two soldiers come out, they lift the veil of the tent, the sailor lays me on a camp bed ; a lantern is swinging at the top of the central post ; blood withdraws from my hands, from my heart ; the soldiers phone, take my hands, cover my forehead, they open khaki-painted cupboards\ldots +I smile, I look down, the hairdresser is trembling, the blade grazes my head and the tip of my ear, the officer crushes my bare toes with his red leather shoe ; the hairdresser wipes his fingers on the cloth tied around my neck, the cut hairs fall, brush my ears, my nostrils, get caught on my eyebrows, mummy, I don't want the hairdresser to cut my locks, mummy sits on the armchair, she strokes my knee, she takes a magazine, she opens it over her knees ; behind the partition, there is V\'eronique, her aunt is standing, the hairdresser girl pushes her away gently, V\'eronique makes signs in the mirror ; my cut hairs get caught in the honeycomb pattern of my shirt ; mummy goes out without her handbag, she walks in the rain along the river ; the hairdresser looks around, he puts his hand on my pants' warm flannel, his hand moves up along my thigh, I look at V\'eronique, it's she who's caressing me, mummy shouts and cries in the rain ; the dockers are dragging the barbed wire through the mud ; mummy bites her wet scarf ; the hairdresser's hand sinks between my thighs, I push the hand away ; the other hand moves down along my chest, my knees knock against the marble basin, it sways, the hairdresser girl looks back, the hairdresser's hand remains open on my quivering chest, mummy shakes her shoes against the door, she comes in, it's night already, she takes my little hands in her wet hands, I get off the armchair, mummy pays the hairdresser, he pushes me against the door, mummy leads me through the black streets to the river. The dockers are warming themselves over a coal fire ; they whistle ; mummy takes me in her arms, she leaps through the mist, she climbs up the jetty, she runs on the cement ; the rocks are covered with snow, I struggle, mummy squeezes me against her breasts, I bite her hand, a tow boat whose lit-up portholes cast gleams on the black and oily sea, comes down the estuary ; mummy flings herself --- I bite her hand, her arms drop me, I fall on the stairs ; mummy rolls on the rocks and dives into the sea, froth covers her up, I writhe on the steps of the staircase ; a wave carries away mummy's head, her hands slip on the smooth and shiny rock ; the tow boat turns, sailors are running on deck, they release a dinghy, jump inside, row towards the jetty, the stars light up between the clouds, my head is bathing in a pool of gall ; a sailor jumps on the staircase, he lifts me in his arms, he kisses my cheek and my forehead ; the other sailors plunge the oars, bring back mummy's body on the large flat rock ; my legs, my back are broken, the sailor runs on the jetty, he crosses the harbour, he jumps over the camp fence, a soldier runs after him, the sailor stops in front of a lit up tent, two soldiers come out, they lift the veil of the tent, the sailor lays me on a camp bed ; a lantern is swinging at the top of the central post ; blood withdraws from my hands, from my heart ; the soldiers phone, take my hands, cover my forehead, they open khaki-painted cupboards\ldots The jeeps and trucks start off, Thivai, struck in the middle of the forehead by the rising sun, covers his face with his battledress jacket ; the rest of his body is naked, the flies from the shit and from the wine press, scratch the earth on the edge of the basement window ; they shoot out, they frolic on Thivai's penis, sink under the hair, step over the locks ; Thivai gives a start, he spreads his thighs open, the morning breeze brushes, cools off his thighs, the sexual mass where the flies are buzzing\ldots -\ldots\ V\'{e}ronique throws her hair back, I take her hair and bury my head in it ; V\'{e}ronique turns back, takes my head in her hands~: +\ldots\ V\'eronique throws her hair back, I take her hair and bury my head in it ; V\'eronique turns back, takes my head in her hands~: Xaintrailles kissed me in the garden. @@ -4472,7 +4477,7 @@ I catch her by the waist, I bite her mouth, her breasts roll, get crushed on my She laughs, I knock her down under me on the sofa. -Wind closes the books on the table, makes the pencils roll, I kiss her mouth through her hair ; my hand sinks under her dress, covers her right breast, it's shivering, it's quivering, it becomes warm under my palm, I cover the other breast, I caress it gently, I unfasten the dress, I kiss the tip of the breast, V\'{e}ronique is panting under me, I crush my mouth on her breast ; the windows are wide open on the park ; Xaintrailles is walking among the tall grass, his rifle erect. +Wind closes the books on the table, makes the pencils roll, I kiss her mouth through her hair ; my hand sinks under her dress, covers her right breast, it's shivering, it's quivering, it becomes warm under my palm, I cover the other breast, I caress it gently, I unfasten the dress, I kiss the tip of the breast, V\'eronique is panting under me, I crush my mouth on her breast ; the windows are wide open on the park ; Xaintrailles is walking among the tall grass, his rifle erect. --- Don't hug me too tight, Thivai, you'll break my back. @@ -4484,7 +4489,7 @@ I crawl over her, her hands are kneading the shorts on my buttocks, her fingers --- As for me, I have no more heart. -Her fingers part my buttocks then slip under the shorts, knead the rolls of fat of the buttocks ; I close her mouth with my teeth ; open on the head of the sofa, one of Xaintrailles' books : \booktitle{Manual of Tactics and Strategy}. I open it, I see the drawing of a Greek hoplite throwing his spear, his foot on a rose laurel, Xaintrailles, dreamily, one evening, blackened with ink a small loincloth on the hoplite's belly ; I leave the book opened ; V\'{e}ronique's hand sinks between her belly and mine, she starts unbuttoning my shorts, she looks me straight in the eye, her hand unbuttons, my hand joins her hand, intertwined they uncover my thighs ; my cock grows hard under the wet swimming trunks, V\'{e}ronique's hand threads its way under the swimming trunks, touches my cock, the swollen vein. +Her fingers part my buttocks then slip under the shorts, knead the rolls of fat of the buttocks ; I close her mouth with my teeth ; open on the head of the sofa, one of Xaintrailles' books : \booktitle{Manual of Tactics and Strategy}. I open it, I see the drawing of a Greek hoplite throwing his spear, his foot on a rose laurel, Xaintrailles, dreamily, one evening, blackened with ink a small loincloth on the hoplite's belly ; I leave the book opened ; V\'eronique's hand sinks between her belly and mine, she starts unbuttoning my shorts, she looks me straight in the eye, her hand unbuttons, my hand joins her hand, intertwined they uncover my thighs ; my cock grows hard under the wet swimming trunks, V\'eronique's hand threads its way under the swimming trunks, touches my cock, the swollen vein. Xaintrailles is whistling under the trees, his shirt open down to the navel. @@ -4494,13 +4499,13 @@ Xaintrailles is whistling under the trees, his shirt open down to the navel. --- Before she took you, you and Xaintrailles, the negro used to take me for walks in the wet garden, he told me the name of flowers and leaves, he crunched worms and grasshoppers ; in the evening, in front of the fire, she'd crown him with flowers, while he, would tear the tapestry of the sofa under his thighs and pull the horsehair\ldots -Xaintrailles strokes the trees, he can't shoot in the air, the sun is dazzling him, he walks up the alley, the entrance steps, the staircase, he enters the room, walks through it, he grabs his book on the sofa, against V\'{e}ronique's sweaty head ; she takes his knee, he steps back, she holds him, her hand moves up under Xaintrailles' shorts, the boy steps further back, but he's smiling, he pulls out V\'{e}ronique's hand, he takes his book, he presses it under his chest. +Xaintrailles strokes the trees, he can't shoot in the air, the sun is dazzling him, he walks up the alley, the entrance steps, the staircase, he enters the room, walks through it, he grabs his book on the sofa, against V\'eronique's sweaty head ; she takes his knee, he steps back, she holds him, her hand moves up under Xaintrailles' shorts, the boy steps further back, but he's smiling, he pulls out V\'eronique's hand, he takes his book, he presses it under his chest. ---- Shall I make the parcel for your aunt ? I'll carry it myself to the hospital. +--- Shall I make the parcel for your aunt~? I'll carry it myself to the hospital. --- Her little pebbles salute her. -Xaintrailles leaves ; V\'{e}ronique licks the hand that touched Xaintrailles' thigh. +Xaintrailles leaves ; V\'eronique licks the hand that touched Xaintrailles' thigh. --- Let's go to the sea, you'll kiss me in the water. @@ -4513,51 +4518,51 @@ Xaintrailles leaves ; V\'{e}ronique licks the hand that touched Xaintrailles' th --- You'll come with me. % \noindent -I get up, I shake my crumpled and wet shirt. I button up my shorts ; V\'{e}ronique gets up, she fastens her dress. +I get up, I shake my crumpled and wet shirt. I button up my shorts ; V\'eronique gets up, she fastens her dress. Downstairs, Xaintrailles crumples the packing paper, I go down to the kitchen~: --- She wants to see you, to touch your heads before dying. ---- I'm going to the sea with V\'{e}ronique. +--- I'm going to the sea with V\'eronique. --- Be careful, the sailors fire at those who swim towards the battleships. --- Xaintrailles, this night, I had a dream : in the lower part of the city, people were marvelling at a miracle ; my legs were cut off, I couldn't go down, the oriflammes, on the high city, were flapping like swords. The miracle was moving along the river, as far as the estuary, the children were pulling me out of my bed. At once, in the night, the crowd had started building a basilica over the hut where the miracle had come to rest. Touch, I'm alive, I'm alive, without my heart beating. -V\'{e}ronique covered with blood clings to the battleship ; the sailors open a door in the side of the ship, they throw ropes, I take V\'{e}ronique in my arm, I swim, I grab the rope, I fall dripping on the floor of the hold, a long line of blood covers her breast and her legs\ldots +V\'eronique covered with blood clings to the battleship ; the sailors open a door in the side of the ship, they throw ropes, I take V\'eronique in my arm, I swim, I grab the rope, I fall dripping on the floor of the hold, a long line of blood covers her breast and her legs\ldots Thivai turns over on his belly, the flies caught under him, vibrate in the hair\ldots -Water glimmers. V\'{e}ronique, clinging to the dinghy's bow, rubs her belly and her thighs against the wet wood of the stern post, her legs move up along the hull, I come behind her, I cling to her shoulders, my belly presses against her buttocks, my legs cover hers, on each side of the hull. She lets go of the boat, she falls over me, in the froth, her hand bends my head under water ; I struggle, my hand pulls her swimsuit on her hip, tears it, the locks of her pubic hair unfurl in the luminescent water\ldots\ Thivai buries his face in the sleeping bag soiled with bugs' blood\ldots\ Xaintrailles is huddled in a corner of the sitting room, V\'{e}ronique plays the piano to entice him. V\'{e}ronique's aunt has bought little Xaintrailles this morning, she grabs me by the neck, I watch little Xaintrailles, she leads me to her room, the negro is sprawled on the bed, a hand on his belly, he's asleep among the lace, a piece of lace caught between his teeth ; she opens her writing desk, she pulls out a photo of mummy sitting under the magnolia tree, a little white dog is licking her cheeks ; V\'{e}ronique's aunt lays the photo on the pedestal table, she places her hand between my thighs and shakes my cock~: +Water glimmers. V\'eronique, clinging to the dinghy's bow, rubs her belly and her thighs against the wet wood of the stern post, her legs move up along the hull, I come behind her, I cling to her shoulders, my belly presses against her buttocks, my legs cover hers, on each side of the hull. She lets go of the boat, she falls over me, in the froth, her hand bends my head under water ; I struggle, my hand pulls her swimsuit on her hip, tears it, the locks of her pubic hair unfurl in the luminescent water\ldots\ Thivai buries his face in the sleeping bag soiled with bugs' blood\ldots\ Xaintrailles is huddled in a corner of the sitting room, V\'eronique plays the piano to entice him. V\'eronique's aunt has bought little Xaintrailles this morning, she grabs me by the neck, I watch little Xaintrailles, she leads me to her room, the negro is sprawled on the bed, a hand on his belly, he's asleep among the lace, a piece of lace caught between his teeth ; she opens her writing desk, she pulls out a photo of mummy sitting under the magnolia tree, a little white dog is licking her cheeks ; V\'eronique's aunt lays the photo on the pedestal table, she places her hand between my thighs and shakes my cock~: --- Hurry before the negro wakes up ; on the photograph, once only. -I'm trembling, I smile, I cannot say : \speech{I've already masturbated three times this afternoon in the orangerie, V\'{e}ronique likes that smell.} +{\sloppy I'm trembling, I smile, I cannot say : \speech{I've already masturbated three times this afternoon in the orangerie, V\'eronique likes that smell.} The aunt turns away, she paints her nails, I pull out my cock, it rolls on the grey flannel, I lay the tip on the little dog, the photo's glaze cools the tip of my cock, I laugh, she turns her head towards me~: --- Hurry up, you're not that long with the little harbour slaves. -I tauten my legs, I rub, but my cock doesn't swell, I think of V\'{e}ronique's dress, her thighs, her little mouth, soft and downy around the lips like peaches or apricots ; a leather belt girds up her hips, a crossbelt supports her breasts, sinks between her thighs, flattens her pubic hair, goes up again between the buttocks, the straps cross on the loins, the rings shine in the sun, my sperm shines on the meadow, hanging to the grass like a cocoon ; it gushes out, spatters the photo, a colourless, burning liquid, one can't see mummy's face any more, unless by transparency under the sperm. +I tauten my legs, I rub, but my cock doesn't swell, I think of V\'eronique's dress, her thighs, her little mouth, soft and downy around the lips like peaches or apricots ; a leather belt girds up her hips, a crossbelt supports her breasts, sinks between her thighs, flattens her pubic hair, goes up again between the buttocks, the straps cross on the loins, the rings shine in the sun, my sperm shines on the meadow, hanging to the grass like a cocoon ; it gushes out, spatters the photo, a colourless, burning liquid, one can't see mummy's face any more, unless by transparency under the sperm. Madam looks back, smiles, takes the photo, the negro wakes up, he stretches his limbs, I slip my gluey cock back into the shorts, Madam lifts the soiled photo to her mouth, she eats it ; on her lips, there is my sperm and in her throat the little white dog and mummy's body and the deckchair and the magnolia. I go down again, Madam locks herself up with the negro. -In the sitting room, Xaintrailles is motionless, V\'{e}ronique turns on the stool, her hands brush the keyboard, I take them, I let them go, I move close to Xaintrailles, he huddles, he covers his face with his hand~: +In the sitting room, Xaintrailles is motionless, V\'eronique turns on the stool, her hands brush the keyboard, I take them, I let them go, I move close to Xaintrailles, he huddles, he covers his face with his hand~: ---- You, you're an orphan, V\'{e}ronique too, our Mother, the Great One, has eaten our little mothers, listen, she growls, she's hungry. +--- You, you're an orphan, V\'eronique too, our Mother, the Great One, has eaten our little mothers, listen, she growls, she's hungry. --- Are you a boy, or a girl~? -The murmur from the garden enters by the windows, pours its cries, its whistles, its pebbles on the carpet. I, and V\'{e}ronique, we lie on the carpet and make some room between us for Xaintrailles ; he uncovers his face, V\'{e}ronique lifts her dress, she tucks it up on her thighs, Xaintrailles remains huddled up. +The murmur from the garden enters by the windows, pours its cries, its whistles, its pebbles on the carpet. I, and V\'eronique, we lie on the carpet and make some room between us for Xaintrailles ; he uncovers his face, V\'eronique lifts her dress, she tucks it up on her thighs, Xaintrailles remains huddled up. -At dinner, his throat cannot swallow ; the negro takes his thigh, under the tablecloth ; Madam doesn't eat, she licks salt from her finger, her diamond clinks on the glass ; the negro gobbles up, fat accumulates at the corner of his lips ; V\'{e}ronique has tucked up her dress on her belly, under the napkin ; my foot touches her knee under the table ; Xaintrailles sleeps in my room, I let him have the bed at the end, ! take the one under the window ; he doesn't dare undress, he slips himself under the sheets with his clothes on ; I go to the window, V\'{e}ronique, stark naked, hard and smooth under the icy moon, her belly leaning on the rusty iron, gazes at the stars, her feet rub the cement, her shoulders are trembling, her rounded hands support her breasts, blood rises to the nipples ; I go into her room, I catch her by surprise, I hug her, my hands cross on her belly, I brush off the rust, my hands move up over her navel, up to under her breasts, cover her hands ; my pyjama belt sinks between her buttocks, I gently pull at it, V\'{e}ronique collapses against me, her head rolls on my shoulder, her tongue, out from her mouth, vibrates against my cheek, feels for my mouth ; my hand moves down, covers her cunt, pulls at the down, sinks between her thighs, pinches the swell of the cunt ; a groan, coming from my room, stops my mouth on V\'{e}ronique's cheek~: +At dinner, his throat cannot swallow ; the negro takes his thigh, under the tablecloth ; Madam doesn't eat, she licks salt from her finger, her diamond clinks on the glass ; the negro gobbles up, fat accumulates at the corner of his lips ; V\'eronique has tucked up her dress on her belly, under the napkin ; my foot touches her knee under the table ; Xaintrailles sleeps in my room, I let him have the bed at the end, I take the one under the window ; he doesn't dare undress, he slips himself under the sheets with his clothes on ; I go to the window, V\'eronique, stark naked, hard and smooth under the icy moon, her belly leaning on the rusty iron, gazes at the stars, her feet rub the cement, her shoulders are trembling, her rounded hands support her breasts, blood rises to the nipples ; I go into her room, I catch her by surprise, I hug her, my hands cross on her belly, I brush off the rust, my hands move up over her navel, up to under her breasts, cover her hands ; my pyjama belt sinks between her buttocks, I gently pull at it, V\'eronique collapses against me, her head rolls on my shoulder, her tongue, out from her mouth, vibrates against my cheek, feels for my mouth ; my hand moves down, covers her cunt, pulls at the down, sinks between her thighs, pinches the swell of the cunt ; a groan, coming from my room, stops my mouth on V\'eronique's cheek~: --- It's little Xaintrailles. He's biting his cheeks. -She breaks away from me, she crosses her room, goes out in the corridor, enters my room, goes to the window, takes the shorts on my bed, bends down, slips the shorts on, without buttoning it --- the buttonholes' flap falls back over her thighs ; her buttocks are well hugged by the flannel ; she steps towards Xaintrailles' bed, she sits there ; the boy raises the sheet, he sees V\'{e}ronique's bare breasts, she gets up, standing with her legs parted, fists on her hips ; she slightly bends her torso towards the bed ; Xaintrailles raises the sheets again, V\'{e}ronique plunges forward, pulls the sheet, in one go and intertwines with the boy, who, his shorts half-opened, struggles, screams, scratches V\'{e}ronique's cheeks ; she takes his mouth, she gags him, her curly hair covers the boy's cheeks and eyes, she lifts her head, throws her hair back, then, moving backwards to the foot of the bed, taking off the boy's clothes one by one, she lets her hair drag on Xaintrailles' body, blinds his eyes, makes his mouth spit, and sweeps along his cock, bound, entangled. +She breaks away from me, she crosses her room, goes out in the corridor, enters my room, goes to the window, takes the shorts on my bed, bends down, slips the shorts on, without buttoning it --- the buttonholes' flap falls back over her thighs ; her buttocks are well hugged by the flannel ; she steps towards Xaintrailles' bed, she sits there ; the boy raises the sheet, he sees V\'eronique's bare breasts, she gets up, standing with her legs parted, fists on her hips ; she slightly bends her torso towards the bed ; Xaintrailles raises the sheets again, V\'eronique plunges forward, pulls the sheet, in one go and intertwines with the boy, who, his shorts half-opened, struggles, screams, scratches V\'eronique's cheeks ; she takes his mouth, she gags him, her curly hair covers the boy's cheeks and eyes, she lifts her head, throws her hair back, then, moving backwards to the foot of the bed, taking off the boy's clothes one by one, she lets her hair drag on Xaintrailles' body, blinds his eyes, makes his mouth spit, and sweeps along his cock, bound, entangled. -Three times does she drags her hair on the boy's body, from top to bottom, from bottom to top ; the boy, appeased, takes the hair and makes it run between his fingers, his cock grows taut, V\'{e}ronique winds a lock of her hair around it and she pulls, the cock stretches, extends, the buckle slips and gets caught around the foreskin ; the boy rises a little on his loins, he laughs, he takes his cock, V\'{e}ronique brings back her hair on the boy's belly, unfastens with her fingers the lock tied to the foreskin, she strokes the cock, from top to bottom, lifts her head, her hair moves out of the boy's thighs, raises the testicles ; the cock grows taut, it rises, brushes V\'{e}ronique's lips ; my hand strokes V\'{e}ronique's quivering back, the flannel stretched on the buttocks ; her curly hair trembles in the moonlight like waves, I drive my fingers inside, on your nape strikes the noise of the sea, the murmur of the waves, in your ear\ldots\ O your eyes make a grating sound in the dark, your nails can see ; your small breasts shine between your shoulders ; Xaintrailles, lying, his chin digging in his throat, strokes your breasts like a child would stroke, entranced, pebbles in the moonlight. +Three times does she drags her hair on the boy's body, from top to bottom, from bottom to top ; the boy, appeased, takes the hair and makes it run between his fingers, his cock grows taut, V\'eronique winds a lock of her hair around it and she pulls, the cock stretches, extends, the buckle slips and gets caught around the foreskin ; the boy rises a little on his loins, he laughs, he takes his cock, V\'eronique brings back her hair on the boy's belly, unfastens with her fingers the lock tied to the foreskin, she strokes the cock, from top to bottom, lifts her head, her hair moves out of the boy's thighs, raises the testicles ; the cock grows taut, it rises, brushes V\'eronique's lips ; my hand strokes V\'eronique's quivering back, the flannel stretched on the buttocks ; her curly hair trembles in the moonlight like waves, I drive my fingers inside, on your nape strikes the noise of the sea, the murmur of the waves, in your ear\ldots\ O your eyes make a grating sound in the dark, your nails can see ; your small breasts shine between your shoulders ; Xaintrailles, lying, his chin digging in his throat, strokes your breasts like a child would stroke, entranced, pebbles in the moonlight. All night long we make love to him, we squeeze him between our arms, between our legs, so that his heart shoots out of his chest and into the night sky\ldots @@ -4565,7 +4570,7 @@ Thivai brings back the sleeping bag on his loins, he's shivering, the sweat from Thivai tightens his throat, his cry. -In the courtyard, soldiers bump into each other, gloss their hair, wash their hands and their cocks ; green foliage above the wash-house caresses their bare shoulders ; the sun sparkles in the broken mirrors hanging from the garden hose ; a child stripped to the waist, escapes from the wine press ; a soldier grabs his carbine, he fires, the child collapses against the camp fence : \said{He's the reb's son who comes to sleep inside the press every night} ; the soldier runs, lifts the child whose cheek and throat are covered with black blood, the child is breathing, the soldier takes his head by the hair, he bangs it three times on the rock protruding in the red dust ; the child is still breathing, the soldier tramples his throat, the child's eyes shoot out of the sockets and his tongue, out of the mouth ; the soldier grabs the child by the hair again, he drags him as far as the sandbags ; the soldiers, at the wash-house, watch him, their hands shaking on the comb, and their lips on the toothbrush ; the soldier drags the body on the bag, then he makes it roll on the fortifications' slope ; he pushes him with the butt of his carbine ; the body remains caught by an eucalyptus stub ; the soldier takes the pole for clearing the latrine, he waves it ; its tip is smeared with still fresh shit, from the morning sentries. +In the courtyard, soldiers bump into each other, gloss their hair, wash their hands and their cocks ; green foliage above the wash-house caresses their bare shoulders ; the sun sparkles in the broken mirrors hanging from the garden hose ; a child stripped to the waist, escapes from the wine press ; a soldier grabs his carbine, he fires, the child collapses against the camp fence : \speech{He's the reb's son who comes to sleep inside the press every night} ; the soldier runs, lifts the child whose cheek and throat are covered with black blood, the child is breathing, the soldier takes his head by the hair, he bangs it three times on the rock protruding in the red dust ; the child is still breathing, the soldier tramples his throat, the child's eyes shoot out of the sockets and his tongue, out of the mouth ; the soldier grabs the child by the hair again, he drags him as far as the sandbags ; the soldiers, at the wash-house, watch him, their hands shaking on the comb, and their lips on the toothbrush ; the soldier drags the body on the bag, then he makes it roll on the fortifications' slope ; he pushes him with the butt of his carbine ; the body remains caught by an eucalyptus stub ; the soldier takes the pole for clearing the latrine, he waves it ; its tip is smeared with still fresh shit, from the morning sentries. The soldier pricks the dead body with the end of the pole, he clears the head and shoulders from the stub, the end of the pole pierces the cheek then the child's shoulder, the dead body rolls down the freshly ploughed slope to the marshes where it sinks, gradually swallowed up by blue water and carnivorous slime. @@ -4573,7 +4578,7 @@ Thivai comes back to his bed, his foot strikes the mess tin where a piece of che Little savage girl, under the caress, the thorns flattened in your skin, stand up again ; lying in the little lips of your cunt, they scratch my swollen cock ; in your eyes, thorns run under the crystal, scratch the lips that settle there. -Xaintrailles licks the wall under your balcony ; bottles roll on the carpet, the broken cups, I throw them in the fire, they crackle, they explode ; Madam died tonight, I vomit over the carpet, while you eat the lampshade, the moths pour their red powder on your nostrils ; Xaintrailles tries to climb the wall, his knees get grazed on the quartz, V\'{e}ronique makes her teeth chatter, I run upon her, I take her mouth in my teeth, she takes my cock under the shorts, she holds it, she pulls it, I scream, my arm pushes the lamp, the bulb falls on V\'{e}ronique's arm, burns the down, blackens the hem of my shorts ; V\'{e}ronique screams, she bites her arm, she bathes it with saliva and tears ; I run to the kitchen, i grab the butter ; V\'{e}ronique is lying on the sofa, she holds her arm raised, I smear it with butter ; Xaintrailles sings and climbs the wall, wine soils his cheeks and throat, soaks his shirt ; the negro rolled in the cup fragments, snores, ears of corn and barley are caught in his hair. Xaintrailles groans, his knee raised on the saltpetre, V\'{e}ronique whines on the sofa ; the moths from the lampshade settle on her bare torso~: +Xaintrailles licks the wall under your balcony ; bottles roll on the carpet, the broken cups, I throw them in the fire, they crackle, they explode ; Madam died tonight, I vomit over the carpet, while you eat the lampshade, the moths pour their red powder on your nostrils ; Xaintrailles tries to climb the wall, his knees get grazed on the quartz, V\'eronique makes her teeth chatter, I run upon her, I take her mouth in my teeth, she takes my cock under the shorts, she holds it, she pulls it, I scream, my arm pushes the lamp, the bulb falls on V\'eronique's arm, burns the down, blackens the hem of my shorts ; V\'eronique screams, she bites her arm, she bathes it with saliva and tears ; I run to the kitchen, i grab the butter ; V\'eronique is lying on the sofa, she holds her arm raised, I smear it with butter ; Xaintrailles sings and climbs the wall, wine soils his cheeks and throat, soaks his shirt ; the negro rolled in the cup fragments, snores, ears of corn and barley are caught in his hair. Xaintrailles groans, his knee raised on the saltpetre, V\'eronique whines on the sofa ; the moths from the lampshade settle on her bare torso~: --- Kill me, burn my lips with the bulb. Dispatch me ; how can I live with a silent heart~? @@ -4583,13 +4588,13 @@ I hit her in the face, she cries, I hit her again~: --- Kill me, choke me, cut off my legs. ---- I felt nothing when she threw herself in the water. I'm a son of the wind. Stop talking and get yourself up. Here I'm not abandoned enough, why, son of the wind, I, I'm living and walking on earth ? I do not know your face. Sons of the wind, thrown on the manure, crowded up in the brothels, carrion, rot, burn\ldots Thivai leans his forehead against the saltpetre, soldiers run along the basement window, the dust raised by their shoes and espadrilles is captured by the sunbeams crossing the cellar from one side to another, they shout~: +--- I felt nothing when she threw herself in the water. I'm a son of the wind. Stop talking and get yourself up. Here I'm not abandoned enough, why, son of the wind, I, I'm living and walking on earth~? I do not know your face. Sons of the wind, thrown on the manure, crowded up in the brothels, carrion, rot, burn\ldots Thivai leans his forehead against the saltpetre, soldiers run along the basement window, the dust raised by their shoes and espadrilles is captured by the sunbeams crossing the cellar from one side to another, they shout~: --- Thivai. Winnetou killed a kid, a little reb. Thivai blows on the saltpetre\ldots -I'll be condemned, they'll eat my heart and my eyes, and my mother within me hidden, by me nourished. They'll ballot for my miserable linen, my smashed mirror, my ball of amber, my golden chain and my transistor. Xaintrailles will weep for this head never kissed, this heart never pressed, these eyes never wet. O death, throw me on the manure, have the king pass by, raise his finger, stop his servants with slanted eyes under the jet-black fringe, arm them with pickaxes, they push away the manure, hook my knees, brain the rats between my thighs ; make me rot in some deserted country peopled by vile slaves, every night the young masters of the sea come down, hide in the bushes, harpoon the slaves' families, burn their huts, ravage their fields ; then they return to their boats, wake up the oarsmen, gorge them with heavy retsina wine and make fun of them staggering on the banquet stage and feeling each other to ride on their backs. A god that is no god, but a smile of stone, wakes me up, gathers my rotten limbs. Once I left Madame's place, I became a slave ; I used to meet V\'{e}ronique and Xantrailles who were slaves in the lower city, at night for the boats arriving loaded with spiders, crabs, red mullets ; V\'{e}ronique belongs to the Cooperative, she lifts crates of fish, her forehead, her hands are bloody, sailors stroke her overcoat and underneath, her soaked shorts, dry only on the cunt ; she falls on the crates ; in the warehouse, with the light coming from outside, a sailor lays her on the big fish and his hand smeared with gall --- he comes out of the ship's hold, he has brained the fish and chopped their head off --- his tough hand sinks under the shorts, pinches the cunt, smears it with gall ; a child strikes the pane with his satchel ; V\'{e}ronique above the sailor's shoulder gazes at the nets and sails shivering in the moonlight ; she reads a hundred times the number painted on the ship's bow ; the sailor penetrates her, smashes her forehead, between the eyes, with his closed fist ; blood rises to V\'{e}ronique's eyes ; the sailor, excited by the smell of blood rising, crushes V\'{e}ronique's breasts ; a fish-hook hanging from his jacket pierces V\'{e}ronique's overcoat, pricks the breast ; she screams, the sailor gets up again, his cock, softened, drags a few seconds on a fish fin ; he gets up, he pushes, with his foot, V\'{e}ronique under the fish ; wounded, she stays lying there until dawn ; Xaintrailles, his belly girded in a piece of cloth, wanders from one sleazy bar to another, he squats down under the counter, under the tables, he cleans the spitoons, picks up the cigarette butts ; the men sitting at the tables push him, he falls, mouth crushed on the spitoon ; in the casinos, he threads his way between the players' legs ; women, a giant cigarette holder between their fingers, lift up his chin ; waiters gag him with his soiled cloth, they steal from him the cigarette butts swelling the pocket of his jeans ; in the evening, in front of the social commissioner, he trembles, he expects the whip, he raises his arms, the social commissioner goes through his pockets, takes out the tobacco, pours it ina money box : For our old citizens. The commissioner taps on Xaintrailles' hip : \said{Now, to the kennel.} +I'll be condemned, they'll eat my heart and my eyes, and my mother within me hidden, by me nourished. They'll ballot for my miserable linen, my smashed mirror, my ball of amber, my golden chain and my transistor. Xaintrailles will weep for this head never kissed, this heart never pressed, these eyes never wet. O death, throw me on the manure, have the king pass by, raise his finger, stop his servants with slanted eyes under the jet-black fringe, arm them with pickaxes, they push away the manure, hook my knees, brain the rats between my thighs ; make me rot in some deserted country peopled by vile slaves, every night the young masters of the sea come down, hide in the bushes, harpoon the slaves' families, burn their huts, ravage their fields ; then they return to their boats, wake up the oarsmen, gorge them with heavy retsina wine and make fun of them staggering on the banquet stage and feeling each other to ride on their backs. A god that is no god, but a smile of stone, wakes me up, gathers my rotten limbs. Once I left Madame's place, I became a slave ; I used to meet V\'eronique and Xaintrailles who were slaves in the lower city, at night for the boats arriving loaded with spiders, crabs, red mullets ; V\'eronique belongs to the Cooperative, she lifts crates of fish, her forehead, her hands are bloody, sailors stroke her overcoat and underneath, her soaked shorts, dry only on the cunt ; she falls on the crates ; in the warehouse, with the light coming from outside, a sailor lays her on the big fish and his hand smeared with gall --- he comes out of the ship's hold, he has brained the fish and chopped their head off --- his tough hand sinks under the shorts, pinches the cunt, smears it with gall ; a child strikes the pane with his satchel ; V\'eronique above the sailor's shoulder gazes at the nets and sails shivering in the moonlight ; she reads a hundred times the number painted on the ship's bow ; the sailor penetrates her, smashes her forehead, between the eyes, with his closed fist ; blood rises to V\'eronique's eyes ; the sailor, excited by the smell of blood rising, crushes V\'eronique's breasts ; a fish-hook hanging from his jacket pierces V\'eronique's overcoat, pricks the breast ; she screams, the sailor gets up again, his cock, softened, drags a few seconds on a fish fin ; he gets up, he pushes, with his foot, V\'eronique under the fish ; wounded, she stays lying there until dawn ; Xaintrailles, his belly girded in a piece of cloth, wanders from one sleazy bar to another, he squats down under the counter, under the tables, he cleans the spitoons, picks up the cigarette butts ; the men sitting at the tables push him, he falls, mouth crushed on the spitoon ; in the casinos, he threads his way between the players' legs ; women, a giant cigarette holder between their fingers, lift up his chin ; waiters gag him with his soiled cloth, they steal from him the cigarette butts swelling the pocket of his jeans ; in the evening, in front of the social commissioner, he trembles, he expects the whip, he raises his arms, the social commissioner goes through his pockets, takes out the tobacco, pours it in a money box : For our old citizens. The commissioner taps on Xaintrailles' hip : \speech{Now, to the kennel.} Xaintrailles moves back towards the door, he goes into the garden, walks to the kennel on all fours, he crawls under the fence ; the dogs, awake, mating, growl ; their warm breath runs on his shoulders ; he slides into the hole of the dog keeper ; that one, drunk, is lying across the door frame ; Xaintrailles steps over the body, he blows out the candle and lies on the paillasse ; in the middle of the night, the keeper wakes him up : \speech{They send me tomorrow to military training, they will send us to the armies, ten State slaves to one free man. I'm leaving this morning. They place us on second line of battle. Impossible to move back, or escape. Don't fall asleep, look at me, talk to me. My wife and children are scattered in the city. Last night the social commissioner's children forced me to drink, I was vomiting on the irises, they were tightly blocking the hole entrance, pushing me back. I saw one of my children passing in the alley, he was pulling a cartload of manure, his thin shoulders bare, hollowed, blackened by the pole\ldots} @@ -4645,11 +4650,11 @@ The soldiers roll over on their beds ; on the ground, film magazine pages, crump Winnetou gets out of his bed, the chief grabs him by his belt~: ---- Tell them, you : \said{The general needs you, he allows you to bathe in the sea tonight.} +--- Tell them, you : \speech{The general needs you, he allows you to bathe in the sea tonight.} Winnetou breaks away, he goes to search in his pack, under the rack, he takes out a still fresh skull : inside the hollows, between the joints, filaments of dried flesh. -Winnetou climbs on his mattress again, he !ies down, he lays the skull on his belly, he turns it over, makes the jaws move, and, eyes half-shut, he raises the skull above his head, looks at it, shakes the jaw ; the chief slams the door ; the general is working in his office, signing death sentences, permissions to leave, intendance or operation reports, he phones homeland headquarters, listens to rumours on homeland radio, to the shouts, the curses of the radio operators, the noises of cooking and washing, over there~: +Winnetou climbs on his mattress again, he lies down, he lays the skull on his belly, he turns it over, makes the jaws move, and, eyes half-shut, he raises the skull above his head, looks at it, shakes the jaw ; the chief slams the door ; the general is working in his office, signing death sentences, permissions to leave, intendance or operation reports, he phones homeland headquarters, listens to rumours on homeland radio, to the shouts, the curses of the radio operators, the noises of cooking and washing, over there~: --- General, the commandos refuse to obey. @@ -4657,7 +4662,7 @@ Winnetou climbs on his mattress again, he !ies down, he lays the skull on his be --- General, I warned the prisoner. ---- Wait a second, lieutenant ; is it the first time you're on duty here ? You've been told disgraceful things about me. The soldiers, tonight, in the watchtowers\ldots\ All of it is true, my hand is still crumpled from tonight's embraces, my mouth still bruised from kisses given and received. I'm not yielding to temptations ; by satisfying my desires, and the basest ones --- according to you ---, I cleanse my body of every surrender and every melancholy. On this devastated island, both rebels and forces of law and order have discovered the god's triple face : the rebels have grown weary of their revolution ; we of our repression ; our mechanical combat conceals an incurable weariness of the moral functions ; every one relapses into the strongest among his original vices ; his obsessive urge to satisfy it, awakens in him some new strengths, strengths of reason and not of feelings ; a man makes himself agreeable to his god only through his own vice. Come closer, is your mother still alive ? Almost all soldiers here are orphans ; there is no natural right ; and you cannot accuse me of cruelty. Forget your heart's affections ; love blood, the palpitation of a muscle, dream of a pebble, a fish-hook\ldots +--- Wait a second, lieutenant ; is it the first time you're on duty here~? You've been told disgraceful things about me. The soldiers, tonight, in the watchtowers\ldots\ All of it is true, my hand is still crumpled from tonight's embraces, my mouth still bruised from kisses given and received. I'm not yielding to temptations ; by satisfying my desires, and the basest ones --- according to you ---, I cleanse my body of every surrender and every melancholy. On this devastated island, both rebels and forces of law and order have discovered the god's triple face : the rebels have grown weary of their revolution ; we of our repression ; our mechanical combat conceals an incurable weariness of the moral functions ; every one relapses into the strongest among his original vices ; his obsessive urge to satisfy it, awakens in him some new strengths, strengths of reason and not of feelings ; a man makes himself agreeable to his god only through his own vice. Come closer, is your mother still alive~? Almost all soldiers here are orphans ; there is no natural right ; and you cannot accuse me of cruelty. Forget your heart's affections ; love blood, the palpitation of a muscle, dream of a pebble, a fish-hook\ldots The lieutenant moves backwards toward the door, he salutes, he leaves. The sentry, before closing the door, waves his hand, the general smiles to him ; the lieutenant goes down the stairs ; the sentry enters the office again, the general takes him by the belt, he strokes his belly, the soldier lays his carbine on the desk, he moves towards the general, who takes him by the waist and makes him sit on his knees, kisses him on the mouth ; the soldier puts his arms around the general's neck~: @@ -4691,7 +4696,7 @@ Thivai slips on his battledress, torn and stained with grease, he sits on the st At noon, the general pushes the gate, Winnetou leans against the wall, with rifle at the slope. Thivai gets up, the general puts his fists on his hips. ---- You don't wash ? You don't eat~? +--- You don't wash~? You don't eat~? The general comes closer. Thivai moves back towards the wall~: @@ -4709,11 +4714,11 @@ Winnetou crushes a fish tin open on the stairs. The general grabs Thivai's head, Once the general has left, Winnetou pushes the gate, Thivai lies down on the camp bed, legs parted, dragging on both sides of the straw mattress ; on his chest, the general's saliva, the blood taken from under his gums and left by the general's lips, the wet shreds of the shirt. The general comes back at three, he knocks Thivai down, nails his hand to the wall, Thivai grows pale, chokes, his heart throbs under the shadow of the tormentor ; his cheeks, on which no tear ever ran, are burning. Thivai, released from the general's arms, collapses, unconscious ; the cool of evening awakens him, his head has stricken a stone protruding from the wall, his battledress is open, his cock covered with earth, his lips stuck by sperm ; he gets up, lies down on the bed. -\ldots\ I had no name. They used to call me Tooth ; Xaintrailles, Forehead, V\'{e}ronique, Lip. Others, Hand, Belly, Shoulder, Nape, Eyelash, Cheek, Thigh, Knee, Navel, Foot. Depending on the part of the body touched by the buyer, as a sign of ownership. The social commissioner's children take me with them for a trip abroad. I prepare their hotel rooms, they wolf water melons, squatting on the white and burning sand, they throw me the rind ; without bed, without shelter, without warm clothes, I lie part of the night in the latrine, the streaming water refreshes my back ; I can't sleep in the car, it's closed ; on the beach, they throw pieces of cork and excite me by screaming and whistling, I run on all fours, I bite the cork, I bring it back at their feet ; they make me drunk with sour wine ; in the showers, on the stage, in front of the sea, I soap and rub their savage bodies from which come, for me, at any time, the weapons of death ; I kill the spiders in the latrine, before they come to sit there, I tear the paper and hold it out for them ; sitting inside the boot, my head striking the overflowing oil jerrycan, shaken by the road bumps and holes, I don't listen to their laughs, my ears hear, but neither my mind, nor my heart, nor my throat do stir. In a city called Thivai, but one of the boy was shouting : \speech{Thebes, Thebes, Thebes\ldots}, they set me free, I walk towards a fountain ; the sun is burning the wheatfields, I plunge my feet, my legs, in the icy water, a child turns round the road, his too short legs get caught in the bicycle chain, his thighs pistons, on both sides of the rusty frame, buzz like insect wings. I splash water on my knees, it wets the jeans tucked up to the knees. +\ldots\ I had no name. They used to call me Tooth ; Xaintrailles, Forehead, V\'eronique, Lip. Others, Hand, Belly, Shoulder, Nape, Eyelash, Cheek, Thigh, Knee, Navel, Foot. Depending on the part of the body touched by the buyer, as a sign of ownership. The social commissioner's children take me with them for a trip abroad. I prepare their hotel rooms, they wolf water melons, squatting on the white and burning sand, they throw me the rind ; without bed, without shelter, without warm clothes, I lie part of the night in the latrine, the streaming water refreshes my back ; I can't sleep in the car, it's closed ; on the beach, they throw pieces of cork and excite me by screaming and whistling, I run on all fours, I bite the cork, I bring it back at their feet ; they make me drunk with sour wine ; in the showers, on the stage, in front of the sea, I soap and rub their savage bodies from which come, for me, at any time, the weapons of death ; I kill the spiders in the latrine, before they come to sit there, I tear the paper and hold it out for them ; sitting inside the boot, my head striking the overflowing oil jerrycan, shaken by the road bumps and holes, I don't listen to their laughs, my ears hear, but neither my mind, nor my heart, nor my throat do stir. In a city called Thivai, but one of the boy was shouting : \speech{Thebes, Thebes, Thebes\ldots}, they set me free, I walk towards a fountain ; the sun is burning the wheatfields, I plunge my feet, my legs, in the icy water, a child turns round the road, his too short legs get caught in the bicycle chain, his thighs pistons, on both sides of the rusty frame, buzz like insect wings. I splash water on my knees, it wets the jeans tucked up to the knees. -\ldots\ Three young women passed, wearing black veils, widows ; the mark of the ring on their lips ; a light wind raises their veils, they surround the fountain, I take some water in my hands, I plunge my face in it ; the drops sparkle on my close cropped hair ; a reaping machine flattens the grass, the air trembles above the engine : \said{Tis efus brotaun ?} I keep silent, I stare at them : \said{Ei gennaios, aus idonti, plain tou daimonos.} The warm and humming voice runs into my throat, it shrouds my heart. I place my hand against the ring on my lips ; they look down, their eyelashes, through the veil, covering the eye, like moths' wings. +\ldots\ Three young women passed, wearing black veils, widows ; the mark of the ring on their lips ; a light wind raises their veils, they surround the fountain, I take some water in my hands, I plunge my face in it ; the drops sparkle on my close cropped hair ; a reaping machine flattens the grass, the air trembles above the engine : \speech{Tis efus brotaun~?} I keep silent, I stare at them : \speech{Ei gennaios, aus idonti, plain tou daimonos.} The warm and humming voice runs into my throat, it shrouds my heart. I place my hand against the ring on my lips ; they look down, their eyelashes, through the veil, covering the eye, like moths' wings. -The tallest of the three moves her hand forward, strokes my wet and sparkling head, the young masters are asleep in the car, head leaning against the window ; the girl, her dress tucked up on her thighs, her mouth half-open and her fair hair stuck to the lips. The young woman's hand covers my ear : \said{Esklavos ?} Her mouth swoops down, darkens my face, her mouth settles, opens and shuts itself on my ring, her hands pressing my shoulders : \said{Kaci.} --- On the fountain edge, a bird injured by the bicycle's wheel is struggling in the mud ; one of the women squats down, takes the bird, washes his feathers in the fountain ; when she gets up again, the black material on her shoulder brushes my elbow, burns it ; the river rolls among the wheat, pebbles roll, it flows through, it pierces the fields, the hills of the sun, its water rolls on a bed of fire, it's the earth shining high in the sky ; the women move away ; a stone rolls on my foot, one of the boys, his leg out of the car, thrusts his hand back in his pocket, the other one takes the steering wheel ; I run, I crouch down inside the boot ; the young girl wakes up ; I can smell the river, I hear her voice, her joy, at approaching the estuary~: +The tallest of the three moves her hand forward, strokes my wet and sparkling head, the young masters are asleep in the car, head leaning against the window ; the girl, her dress tucked up on her thighs, her mouth half-open and her fair hair stuck to the lips. The young woman's hand covers my ear : \speech{Esklavos~?} Her mouth swoops down, darkens my face, her mouth settles, opens and shuts itself on my ring, her hands pressing my shoulders : \speech{Kaci.} --- On the fountain edge, a bird injured by the bicycle's wheel is struggling in the mud ; one of the women squats down, takes the bird, washes his feathers in the fountain ; when she gets up again, the black material on her shoulder brushes my elbow, burns it ; the river rolls among the wheat, pebbles roll, it flows through, it pierces the fields, the hills of the sun, its water rolls on a bed of fire, it's the earth shining high in the sky ; the women move away ; a stone rolls on my foot, one of the boys, his leg out of the car, thrusts his hand back in his pocket, the other one takes the steering wheel ; I run, I crouch down inside the boot ; the young girl wakes up ; I can smell the river, I hear her voice, her joy, at approaching the estuary~: --- I dislike that watery cool rising from the boot, and running on my shoulders. @@ -4733,20 +4738,20 @@ She screams, a breath of wild mint, from the ditch where the shepherd is singing --- She's feeling cold, perhaps\ldots\ and that smell of blood, those cries\ldots -\ldots\ A boy takes the young girl's head on his chest, he strokes it, he kisses the hair wet with cold sweat ; the car dashes forward through the wheat's prickly dust ; at the river bank, it stops, the boys open the boot, pull me out, me screaming, crying, they throw me on the road ; the fresh air, the spray, the scent of rotten wheat, choke, wet my cry ; in the morning, body smeared with dew and bird droppings, torso and legs covered with trails of worms and slugs, I get up, I drag myself along, I fall, I crawl towards the river, waders walk along the surf, I sleep all day in the sludge ; in the evening, ravenous, I lie in wait for the waders, I look for the frailest, I see him, I grab its leg, I snap it with one single twist of the wrist, I lay the bird on the sludge, I strangle it, its legs, its beak claw my skull, I tear away the feathers from the neck and breast, the down blinds my eyes, I draw the breast to my mouth and I bite it, I tear it ; the sludge, stirred, swallows blood and feathers, my mouth, my nostrils, my whole face plunges in the slashed flesh ; at the end, in the bloody darkness, the heart is beating, I see it beat with my blood- shot eyes, I bite it, it beats against my teeth, I pierce it, blood gushes out under my tongue ; flesh makes a grinding sound between my teeth ; the bird's head jumps in the sludge, the beak cracks, the eyes mist over ; I fall asleep, my head buried in the warm blood. In the morning, I tear the ring from my lip, I throw it with the piece of flesh it encircled, in the river, a soaring wader dives, swallows the ring ; I wash myself in the river, the wound on my lip burns like an ember ; lying in the ditch, warmed up by the breath of the wheat, I drink my blood\ldots +\ldots\ A boy takes the young girl's head on his chest, he strokes it, he kisses the hair wet with cold sweat ; the car dashes forward through the wheat's prickly dust ; at the river bank, it stops, the boys open the boot, pull me out, me screaming, crying, they throw me on the road ; the fresh air, the spray, the scent of rotten wheat, choke, wet my cry ; in the morning, body smeared with dew and bird droppings, torso and legs covered with trails of worms and slugs, I get up, I drag myself along, I fall, I crawl towards the river, waders walk along the surf, I sleep all day in the sludge ; in the evening, ravenous, I lie in wait for the waders, I look for the frailest, I see him, I grab its leg, I snap it with one single twist of the wrist, I lay the bird on the sludge, I strangle it, its legs, its beak claw my skull, I tear away the feathers from the neck and breast, the down blinds my eyes, I draw the breast to my mouth and I bite it, I tear it ; the sludge, stirred, swallows blood and feathers, my mouth, my nostrils, my whole face plunges in the slashed flesh ; at the end, in the bloody darkness, the heart is beating, I see it beat with my blood-shot eyes, I bite it, it beats against my teeth, I pierce it, blood gushes out under my tongue ; flesh makes a grinding sound between my teeth ; the bird's head jumps in the sludge, the beak cracks, the eyes mist over ; I fall asleep, my head buried in the warm blood. In the morning, I tear the ring from my lip, I throw it with the piece of flesh it encircled, in the river, a soaring wader dives, swallows the ring ; I wash myself in the river, the wound on my lip burns like an ember ; lying in the ditch, warmed up by the breath of the wheat, I drink my blood\ldots The general comes for the third time, he sets Thivai on his feet again, he makes him lie on the camp bed, he strokes him. ---- \speech{I free V\'{e}ronique and Xaintrailles, they tear off their ring. I enter the civilian post office, I sleep in the small room on the other side of the harbour, I enter the civilian post office, I grab Bi'{e}trix by the waist, she kisses my mutilated lip, every evening she bathes it with soft herbs, she picks for me some fine shells, I am lying in wax and starch, she comes back, she uncovers my cock, she bandages it with a wet piece of linen, she fondles my balls, I eat the plate of shells, they're fuming. Bi'{e}trix supports me by the shoulders ; when we kiss, our wounds touch each other, tears flow from our eyes, at night she lies next to me, she puts me to sleep with her fresh caresses, she opens my pyjamas, her fingers unfasten the bandage around my cock ; her breasts tremble like milk in the shadow of the sheets, I touch them, I lay my scented lips on them, my nostrils linger between the breasts, my tongue comes out of my mouth, licks the down, flattens it, my saliva bubbles on the nipple, my teeth pinch it, my lips suck the edge ; my saliva streams on the breast, Bi'{e}trix's hand lifts it towards my mouth that takes it again : my body rolls on you, the wet linen covers my cock and separates it from your cunt, you croon under me, I rub your little frozen feet between my hands ; in the middle of the night, I do not know you yet, and you haven't opened your eyes ; the harbour lights slide on my back, on your breasts, when I withdraw on your knees ; I uncover your cunt, I throw the linen at the end of the bed, I kiss the warm swell of your cunt, I blow on it my breath of son of the wind, you groan, you spread your thighs and between them I plunge my free man's growing hair, they squeeze my cheeks, on my eyes rises the acid freshness of your cunt-juice that wets the lips of your little buried secret mouth ; I laugh, each time my nostrils brush the curly tufts of your hair. Bi'{e}trix, Bi'{e}trix, Bi'{e}trix, pull out the cry from my throat, knead my heart, love me, so that I scream at last, so that men can hear my cry and no more will I be alone or the deserted sea or the pebble. +--- \speech{I free V\'eronique and Xaintrailles, they tear off their ring. I enter the civilian post office, I sleep in the small room on the other side of the harbour, I enter the civilian post office, I grab Bi\'etrix by the waist, she kisses my mutilated lip, every evening she bathes it with soft herbs, she picks for me some fine shells, I am lying in wax and starch, she comes back, she uncovers my cock, she bandages it with a wet piece of linen, she fondles my balls, I eat the plate of shells, they're fuming. Bi\'etrix supports me by the shoulders ; when we kiss, our wounds touch each other, tears flow from our eyes, at night she lies next to me, she puts me to sleep with her fresh caresses, she opens my pyjamas, her fingers unfasten the bandage around my cock ; her breasts tremble like milk in the shadow of the sheets, I touch them, I lay my scented lips on them, my nostrils linger between the breasts, my tongue comes out of my mouth, licks the down, flattens it, my saliva bubbles on the nipple, my teeth pinch it, my lips suck the edge ; my saliva streams on the breast, Bi\'etrix's hand lifts it towards my mouth that takes it again : my body rolls on you, the wet linen covers my cock and separates it from your cunt, you croon under me, I rub your little frozen feet between my hands ; in the middle of the night, I do not know you yet, and you haven't opened your eyes ; the harbour lights slide on my back, on your breasts, when I withdraw on your knees ; I uncover your cunt, I throw the linen at the end of the bed, I kiss the warm swell of your cunt, I blow on it my breath of son of the wind, you groan, you spread your thighs and between them I plunge my free man's growing hair, they squeeze my cheeks, on my eyes rises the acid freshness of your cunt-juice that wets the lips of your little buried secret mouth ; I laugh, each time my nostrils brush the curly tufts of your hair. Bi\'etrix, Bi\'etrix, Bi\'etrix, pull out the cry from my throat, knead my heart, love me, so that I scream at last, so that men can hear my cry and no more will I be alone or the deserted sea or the pebble. -Squeeze me, make the blood flow from my wounds, from my desires, from the rents in my life, in my eyes, in my sight, harden my legs, my arms, my lips ; I alone among the living nature, I dream ; touch my veins, so that they may be loved, recognized, desired by your hands, by your lips. Desire me, desire me, eat me ! Feel hunger for my flesh, thirst for my blood, take my body, slit its throat open, tear it to pieces and after devouring it, feel regret and desire, and eat me to eat me again. Your head tears under my teeth like a large flower with its calyx closed. Soft blades of grass, pinion my cock, hold the sperm back, the furious semen that would burn the whole of you alive. Sleep, my semen held back above your belly, sleep, smile, sleep under the arch of my thighs ; my eyes dream on your quivering breasts. Sleep without fear, stark naked, in my shadow, under my eyes and my formerly cruel and perverted fingers, in the new smell of my body, in the shudder of my despair, sleep under me, your sky with clouds and stars of saliva and blood. In your sleep, listen to its gods of sperm call for your dormant semen\ldots} +Squeeze me, make the blood flow from my wounds, from my desires, from the rents in my life, in my eyes, in my sight, harden my legs, my arms, my lips ; I alone among the living nature, I dream ; touch my veins, so that they may be loved, recognized, desired by your hands, by your lips. Desire me, desire me, eat me~! Feel hunger for my flesh, thirst for my blood, take my body, slit its throat open, tear it to pieces and after devouring it, feel regret and desire, and eat me to eat me again. Your head tears under my teeth like a large flower with its calyx closed. Soft blades of grass, pinion my cock, hold the sperm back, the furious semen that would burn the whole of you alive. Sleep, my semen held back above your belly, sleep, smile, sleep under the arch of my thighs ; my eyes dream on your quivering breasts. Sleep without fear, stark naked, in my shadow, under my eyes and my formerly cruel and perverted fingers, in the new smell of my body, in the shudder of my despair, sleep under me, your sky with clouds and stars of saliva and blood. In your sleep, listen to its gods of sperm call for your dormant semen\ldots} -During the night, the drunken commandos, set against Thivai by their idle chiefs and hoping for their love, drag themselves along towards the cellar where Thivai, locked up inside, has trouble finding sleep. Their feet appear at the basement window, dust fumes in the moonlight, Thivai wakes up with a start, he is naked, lying on his belly ; a stone strikes his foot, Thivai turns back, he sees the shoes rubbing the ground, the commandos come down the small staircase : \said{He's locked in. Wait, here's the watch patrol. We'll go in with them.} +During the night, the drunken commandos, set against Thivai by their idle chiefs and hoping for their love, drag themselves along towards the cellar where Thivai, locked up inside, has trouble finding sleep. Their feet appear at the basement window, dust fumes in the moonlight, Thivai wakes up with a start, he is naked, lying on his belly ; a stone strikes his foot, Thivai turns back, he sees the shoes rubbing the ground, the commandos come down the small staircase : \speech{He's locked in. Wait, here's the watch patrol. We'll go in with them.} Thivai springs to his feet, he hides in the cellar's darkest corner, he tries to muffle his heavy breathing, his belly quivers in the moonlight, the commandos stamp their feet, the patrol arrives, the lamp lights the basement window ; the sergeant is holding it, he lights up the commandos leaning against the wall~: --- We want to see Thivai, let us in. -The sergeant opens the door and the gate, they dash into the ceilar, Thivai runs along the wall, he disappears behind the shelves, the commandos ransack the camp bed, dust flies around, raised, falls back on their shoulders ; a commando, stripped to the waist, his small chain shaken on the chest hair, drives his arm behind the rack, grabs Thivai's leg, he pulls it ; Thivai climbs up the shelves, throws his leg in the face of the commando, who catches it with both hands, and holds it between his teeth ; Thivai bites his cry, the other commandos suspend themselves to the shelves and topple them over ; the sergeant, sprawled on the slashed bed, tries to get up again ; his bloody mouth, is moving ; blood smacks inside his mouth, the shelves crumble, Thivai appears in the dust, naked, +The sergeant opens the door and the gate, they dash into the cellar, Thivai runs along the wall, he disappears behind the shelves, the commandos ransack the camp bed, dust flies around, raised, falls back on their shoulders ; a commando, stripped to the waist, his small chain shaken on the chest hair, drives his arm behind the rack, grabs Thivai's leg, he pulls it ; Thivai climbs up the shelves, throws his leg in the face of the commando, who catches it with both hands, and holds it between his teeth ; Thivai bites his cry, the other commandos suspend themselves to the shelves and topple them over ; the sergeant, sprawled on the slashed bed, tries to get up again ; his bloody mouth, is moving ; blood smacks inside his mouth, the shelves crumble, Thivai appears in the dust, naked, head shaved, between his thighs, the dark hair of the penis. The commandos pull out their knives ; Virido takes a fork from his belt --- the soldiers keep fork and spoon in their pockets or belt --- Thivai tilts his head against the wall, he thrusts his arms between his thighs, his entire body vibrates in the dust ; knives clink in the wet hands ; Virido steps forward, he grabs Thivai by the neck, he spits in his face, he presses on his shoulders, Thivai bends, he falls on his knees, his hands protect his chest, Virido grabs his head by the sides of the throat, tilts it backwards, holds out the fork, rubs it on the stretched throat, Thivai~: @@ -4777,13 +4782,13 @@ The children staying in the houses drag their parents' clothes, put them on and The youths meet outside the city, in an abandoned palace : the Royal Inamenas ; cars, bicycles, motorbikes, drive along the sea front boulevard, beggars and famished children, squatting on the motorway, fascinated by the headlights, let themselves be hit by the bumpers, squashed by the wheels. The Royal Inamenas, built at the far end of Iguider valley, a deserted valley opening onto the sea, comprises eight hundred and fifty apartments, fifty-five interior staircases, thirty exterior ones, seventy elevators, thirteen halls, a hundred meter-long swimming pool, covered up, heated, paved with marble and tiled with blue ceramic, a gymnasium, a theatre. -The youths, some of whom have brought the maids of their younger brothers, climb the entrance steps, push the door of green bronze, part company inside the great entrance hali ; the old woman, janitor of those semi-ruins, leans from the corbelling of the main staircase: +The youths, some of whom have brought the maids of their younger brothers, climb the entrance steps, push the door of green bronze, part company inside the great entrance hall ; the old woman, janitor of those semi-ruins, leans from the corbelling of the main staircase: --- Accursed. Accursed, you. I who received princes, kings\ldots She spits on the blond heads. -One boy blinds her with his hands ; another ransacks her miserabie hut put up on the first landing, the petrol lamp topples over, sets fire to the carpets, the rags, the old woman's bed~: +One boy blinds her with his hands ; another ransacks her miserable hut put up on the first landing, the petrol lamp topples over, sets fire to the carpets, the rags, the old woman's bed~: --- I, I received the devil and his general staff, I saw in his pockets the list of executions, the plans for the camps' crematoriums\ldots @@ -4793,9 +4798,9 @@ The girls, quivering, hiding behind the doors, hold their breath, the boys advan The first boys to awaken go out into the park ; the grass blades heavy with dew wet their bare legs ; they pick acid blackberries, eat them in the hollow of their hand ; they go upstairs, they look for their clothes. -The old woman gets up again, puts her chin on the corbelling ; the boys come down again, fully dressed, holding on their arms the dresses of the girls, who wake up at the bottom of the pool, shiver, whimper, rub themselves against each other ; the boys throw them their dresses ; some boys, their desire rising again, run up to the upper floors, they leap up the stairs over the broken steps, slip, their feet get caught in the carpet shreds ; the boys look for the maidservants : they will get the cruellest embraces, the colourless and burning sperm, the saliva tasting of blood ; all around, on the walls, shreds of tapestries, on the floor, shreds of carpets are flapping, lifted by the breeze. +The old woman gets up again, puts her chin on the corbelling ; the boys come down again, fully dressed, holding on their arms the dresses of the girls, who wake up at the bottom of the pool, shiver, whimper, rub themselves against each other ; the boys throw them their dresses ; some boys, their desire rising again, run up to the upper floors, they leap up the stairs over the broken steps, slip, their feet get caught in the carpet shreds ; the boys look for the maidservants : they will get the cruelest embraces, the colourless and burning sperm, the saliva tasting of blood ; all around, on the walls, shreds of tapestries, on the floor, shreds of carpets are flapping, lifted by the breeze. -Pulled out cf bed, the maidservants, all dressed again, come down : blouses, bodices, wet by sweat and saliva, stretched by suspended desire, get torn unde; the boys' light strokes ; all return to the cars, motorbikes, bicycles, covered with dew and bird droppings ; crushed on the saddle, the boys' and girls' sex organs burn ; along the sea, spray flies over the surf, splashes the window panes and the cheeks. All enter the sleeping city ; sentries walk to-and-fro in the watchtowers ; motorbikes, cars, bicycles pierce the dreams, reap the grass flattened on the road by the morning dew. +Pulled out cf bed, the maidservants, all dressed again, come down : blouses, bodices, wet by sweat and saliva, stretched by suspended desire, get torn under the boys' light strokes ; all return to the cars, motorbikes, bicycles, covered with dew and bird droppings ; crushed on the saddle, the boys' and girls' sex organs burn ; along the sea, spray flies over the surf, splashes the window panes and the cheeks. All enter the sleeping city ; sentries walk to-and-fro in the watchtowers ; motorbikes, cars, bicycles pierce the dreams, reap the grass flattened on the road by the morning dew. The youths hug each other before their houses, then go inside. @@ -4829,25 +4834,25 @@ After that, Emilienne cried against his chest ; he, yet an orphan, and dying fro The Revolution received from abroad weapons, food and money. -B\'{e}ja having killed Illiten, who, because of the nature of power and his state of rebel, still belonged to the ancient world, while he, B\'{e}ja, neither chief, nor second in command, nor subject, nor inspired, but chosen, challenged by fate, mathematical product of historical fate, word and not mouth any more, first man to whom no kind of god could ever suit, first man not to pray, first man without a heart, without reason, without cruelty, without mother, body crossed by life, but incapable of keeping hold of it, body without limits, shape, number, signal, B\'{e}ja, shortly after the unsuccessful rebellion of the children's brothel, started to prepare a general offensive due to bring about the gathering in one place of all elite troops of the occupation army. Ships, filled with weapons, explosives, and small helicopters, cross the sea. The rebels, by radio, direct them towards the deserted beaches on the North of the island. The ships, the boats advance between the reeds ; their bottom strikes the pebbles, the bones, the skeletons. There, on the cliffs, soldiers of a Marine Light Infantry post are overpowered, many of them slaughtered, others, fleeing on the beach, brained among the rocks and kicked to death ; the rebels' radio operator sits at the table of the operator --- lying on his straw mattress with his throat slit open --- who copied the coded text of the next troop movements. The boats are hauled on the sand ; B\'{e}ja, boarding the first unloaded boat, rushes to the main ship ; he climbs in, the expedition captain is awaiting him ; he leads B\'{e}ja into his cabin, he grabs him by the shoulders, he scrutinizes him from feet to head~: +B\'eja having killed Illiten, who, because of the nature of power and his state of rebel, still belonged to the ancient world, while he, B\'eja, neither chief, nor second in command, nor subject, nor inspired, but chosen, challenged by fate, mathematical product of historical fate, word and not mouth any more, first man to whom no kind of god could ever suit, first man not to pray, first man without a heart, without reason, without cruelty, without mother, body crossed by life, but incapable of keeping hold of it, body without limits, shape, number, signal, B\'eja, shortly after the unsuccessful rebellion of the children's brothel, started to prepare a general offensive due to bring about the gathering in one place of all elite troops of the occupation army. Ships, filled with weapons, explosives, and small helicopters, cross the sea. The rebels, by radio, direct them towards the deserted beaches on the North of the island. The ships, the boats advance between the reeds ; their bottom strikes the pebbles, the bones, the skeletons. There, on the cliffs, soldiers of a Marine Light Infantry post are overpowered, many of them slaughtered, others, fleeing on the beach, brained among the rocks and kicked to death ; the rebels' radio operator sits at the table of the operator --- lying on his straw mattress with his throat slit open --- who copied the coded text of the next troop movements. The boats are hauled on the sand ; B\'eja, boarding the first unloaded boat, rushes to the main ship ; he climbs in, the expedition captain is awaiting him ; he leads B\'eja into his cabin, he grabs him by the shoulders, he scrutinizes him from feet to head~: --- Your photo is in all the newspapers of the world, I bring you means of achieving completely your revolution. Girls in our country are in love with your deep, brown eyes, that look as if they had been painted. -Rebels' and sailors' muffled cries, the crumbling of froth on the ship's sides ; B\'{e}ja looks at the porthole ; the captain spreads out some newspapers on the table ; B\'{e}ja's hand strokes the books on the shelves, bound, fawn-coloured, in the golden light. The door opens, a little boy enters the cabin, he clings to the captain's thighs, he buries his head between them ; the captain strokes the little boy's back, his buttocks, he tucks up on the hips the child's red underpants, his only garment ; he turns the child over, he takes his hands which he raises to the height of his belt~: +Rebels' and sailors' muffled cries, the crumbling of froth on the ship's sides ; B\'eja looks at the porthole ; the captain spreads out some newspapers on the table ; B\'eja's hand strokes the books on the shelves, bound, fawn-coloured, in the golden light. The door opens, a little boy enters the cabin, he clings to the captain's thighs, he buries his head between them ; the captain strokes the little boy's back, his buttocks, he tucks up on the hips the child's red underpants, his only garment ; he turns the child over, he takes his hands which he raises to the height of his belt~: --- This is my son, he wanted to meet you, since the beginning of your Revolution he only thinks of you, at night he talks in his sleep~: -\gl Daddy, the hero, daddy, the hero ; mummy, B\'{e}ja, mummy, B\'{e}ja\ldots\gr The child looks down, B\'{e}ja squats, he strokes the child's cheek, his shoulder ; the boy's knee is shaking under B\'{e}ja's elbow ; the child looks up, his little trembling face warms B\'{e}ja's icy forehead~: +{\sloppy \speech{Daddy, the hero, daddy, the hero ; mummy, B\'eja, mummy, B\'eja\ldots} The child looks down, B\'eja squats, he strokes the child's cheek, his shoulder ; the boy's knee is shaking under B\'eja's elbow ; the child looks up, his little trembling face warms B\'eja's icy forehead~:\par} --- We'll send you our children, but do not question me about the slavery they're held in, either in the city or in the mountains. -The boy's hand strokes B\'{e}ja's battledress, on the chest ; the child touches the pockets, the epaulettes ; the strength, the loneliness of that tall body makes his hand quiver. B\'{e}ja gets up again, strokes the boy's glossy hair ; a large sea bird crosses the porthole, the breath from his wings flattens the down on the child's nape ; B\'{e}ja's knees make a cracking sound ; B\'{e}ja, dazzled, sits on the leather bench, the boy goes out, comes back with a glass of fresh water, he gives it to B\'{e}ja who gulps it down, under the child's dark gaze. +The boy's hand strokes B\'eja's battledress, on the chest ; the child touches the pockets, the epaulets ; the strength, the loneliness of that tall body makes his hand quiver. B\'eja gets up again, strokes the boy's glossy hair ; a large sea bird crosses the porthole, the breath from his wings flattens the down on the child's nape ; B\'eja's knees make a cracking sound ; B\'eja, dazzled, sits on the leather bench, the boy goes out, comes back with a glass of fresh water, he gives it to B\'eja who gulps it down, under the child's dark gaze. -The boat takes B\'{e}ja back to the beach ; the unloading is done, the equipment --- including the small helicopters taken to pieces --- is hauled towards the top of the mountain. At the command post, the radio operator is puzzled --- the rebel, in the coastal post, handles the night messages, but the command post operator doesn't recognize his isolated comrade's ways --- he warns the general, a plane takes off, flies over the post, the airmen, with binoculars and searchlights, examine the illuminated site, they see the tracks made by the equipment on the beach, on the way to the cliff ; they fly over the post with its smashed searchlights, the radio operator, from the plane, calls the post : the rebels have fled, dawn appears on the side of the sea ; the plane rumbles, vibrates in the cold beams, the airmen pull up their battledress collar ; the plane returns to Inamenas ; a helicopter takes off, lands behind the post, on the DZ platform recently dug out by the post's soldiers ; the airmen, weapon in hand, jump from the plane ; a commando platoon moves towards the post ; the soldiers enter ; the watchtower's main searchlight rolls on its frame, creaks above their heads, the soldiers discover the bodies, the wounded, the dead, whose open throat slides in the beams ; the commando platoon occupies the post, the plane carries away the wounded, the dying ; one of those, caught in his sleep, is only wearing bloodstained underpants of black cotton ; his head rolls on the leather of the seat, blood spurts out of his torn throat ; thighs lacerated by the rebels' nails ; mouth swollen with blood ; at the corner of the lips, under the blood, the crust of night slobber ; the airmen look away ; flies, having entered the helicopter, while still on the ground, through the doors open under the propeller, vibrate around the bodies, sink at the corner of the lips, their fat white ass dragging on the down, on the transparent eyelids, in the sparkling of dawn ; a rattling noise rises, then others, the lips move, speak, blood smacks inside the mouths, the helicopter lands, the general stands waiting on the platform ; the hangar's large metal panels glitter in the rising sun. +The boat takes B\'eja back to the beach ; the unloading is done, the equipment --- including the small helicopters taken to pieces --- is hauled towards the top of the mountain. At the command post, the radio operator is puzzled --- the rebel, in the coastal post, handles the night messages, but the command post operator doesn't recognize his isolated comrade's ways --- he warns the general, a plane takes off, flies over the post, the airmen, with binoculars and searchlights, examine the illuminated site, they see the tracks made by the equipment on the beach, on the way to the cliff ; they fly over the post with its smashed searchlights, the radio operator, from the plane, calls the post : the rebels have fled, dawn appears on the side of the sea ; the plane rumbles, vibrates in the cold beams, the airmen pull up their battledress collar ; the plane returns to Inamenas ; a helicopter takes off, lands behind the post, on the DZ platform recently dug out by the post's soldiers ; the airmen, weapon in hand, jump from the plane ; a commando platoon moves towards the post ; the soldiers enter ; the watchtower's main searchlight rolls on its frame, creaks above their heads, the soldiers discover the bodies, the wounded, the dead, whose open throat slides in the beams ; the commando platoon occupies the post, the plane carries away the wounded, the dying ; one of those, caught in his sleep, is only wearing bloodstained underpants of black cotton ; his head rolls on the leather of the seat, blood spurts out of his torn throat ; thighs lacerated by the rebels' nails ; mouth swollen with blood ; at the corner of the lips, under the blood, the crust of night slobber ; the airmen look away ; flies, having entered the helicopter, while still on the ground, through the doors open under the propeller, vibrate around the bodies, sink at the corner of the lips, their fat white ass dragging on the down, on the transparent eyelids, in the sparkling of dawn ; a rattling noise rises, then others, the lips move, speak, blood smacks inside the mouths, the helicopter lands, the general stands waiting on the platform ; the hangar's large metal panels glitter in the rising sun. The airmen lift the bodies ; the medical orderlies run with the stretchers, the bodies slide on the stretchers. The general comes closer, he looks at the injuries, the wounds, his eyes caress the naked, or half-naked, bodies, his hands are trembling inside his pockets ; blood shines on the black underpants of the slaughtered soldier, the general moves his hand forward, dips it in the blood, the sun strikes his forehead like a fist ; the body passes under his hand ; an abrupt movement of the stretcher bearers shakes the dead man's penis, under the underpants ; the general, his hand all bloody, follows the stretcher as far as the infirmary. -The command post's soldiers, awake since the middle of the night, warm themselves in the sun, sitting on the ground, their back to the barracks ; they see the general, their eyes close, they smile, little crocodiles in the sun ; the general enters the infirmary, following the stretcher ; the medical orderlies lay down the stretcher in a smal! room, white and bare. +The command post's soldiers, awake since the middle of the night, warm themselves in the sun, sitting on the ground, their back to the barracks ; they see the general, their eyes close, they smile, little crocodiles in the sun ; the general enters the infirmary, following the stretcher ; the medical orderlies lay down the stretcher in a small room, white and bare. They leave, the general comes closer to the dead body, he touches with his bloody hand, the soldier's belly, then his pants, and through the fabric, the softened cock, his hand covers the bloody fabric, sinks between the thighs ; reddened up to the wrist, his hand comes out, comes back on the cock, the general lifts the pants with the tip of his fingers, looks underneath : black mass of flesh, hair, blood, the general lets go of the pants, his fingers sink again between the thighs, press on the cock, blood spurts, runs out of the pants along the thigh and on the belly, as far as the navel, the general bends down, he licks that blood, his fingers enter between the buttocks, lift the testicles ; he rubs his belly and his cock against the joint of the stretcher ; sunbeams run on the tiled floor, little purple birds sing on the half-opened small windows in the roof ; the general withdraws his hand, slips it under the underpants, stretches it with one finger lifting the fabric and his tongue licks the spot of the cloth thus stretched. @@ -4855,7 +4860,7 @@ The stretcher bearers come back, see the general, lips and fingers bloody, leani --- General, don't go too far with this one, he's fragile, don't arouse him, he would die. -The bearers leave, the general, his cock swollen, his thighs wet, leans over the soldier, his hand strokes the bloody hair, sinks in that sheaf of wheat soiled by the blood of a rat hurt by a scythe ; the soldier groans, his hand rises from his hip, the general takes it and lays it on the soldier's belly ; then he strokes his eyelids, lowers his face, kisses the soldier's livid mouth, his cheeks, his throat ; he squats down, his lips run on the belly, on the battledress bloodstainea and stuck on the thighs by blood ; the general lifts the soldier by the waist, he rubs his face against the battledress, the soldier groans again, blood spurts from the corner of his lips, the general takes the soldier's thigh, from beneath, he pulls it away from the other thigh, pushes his face forward, and half-lying on the stretcher, with his muzzle he raises the soldier's cock, growling and holding up his head with each push ; the soldier's head rolls from left to right, out of the stretcher, blood rises to his forehead, his hands move upwards and repel the general's shaven head : the purple birds fly away ; the stretcher bearers come back, carrying a new wounded, whose belly is torn as far as the lungs, pieces of cotton are bathing inside the wound, trails of vomit --- from other wounded soldier --- run on the edges of the slit : the general continues searching between the soldier's thighs. +The bearers leave, the general, his cock swollen, his thighs wet, leans over the soldier, his hand strokes the bloody hair, sinks in that sheaf of wheat soiled by the blood of a rat hurt by a scythe ; the soldier groans, his hand rises from his hip, the general takes it and lays it on the soldier's belly ; then he strokes his eyelids, lowers his face, kisses the soldier's livid mouth, his cheeks, his throat ; he squats down, his lips run on the belly, on the battledress bloodstained and stuck on the thighs by blood ; the general lifts the soldier by the waist, he rubs his face against the battledress, the soldier groans again, blood spurts from the corner of his lips, the general takes the soldier's thigh, from beneath, he pulls it away from the other thigh, pushes his face forward, and half-lying on the stretcher, with his muzzle he raises the soldier's cock, growling and holding up his head with each push ; the soldier's head rolls from left to right, out of the stretcher, blood rises to his forehead, his hands move upwards and repel the general's shaven head : the purple birds fly away ; the stretcher bearers come back, carrying a new wounded, whose belly is torn as far as the lungs, pieces of cotton are bathing inside the wound, trails of vomit --- from other wounded soldier --- run on the edges of the slit : the general continues searching between the soldier's thighs. --- My jackal, my general, that one is almost dead. In any case, he won't be saved from death. General, your uniform is bloody. General, your hands, your face are all bloody. General, your breakfast is served at the mess. General, the chaplain wants to see the wounded\ldots @@ -4881,7 +4886,7 @@ Kment sees a hare, he goes after it, he throws stones at it ; the hare, stricken --- Draga took me. ---- B\'{e}ja has his planes. +--- B\'eja has his planes. Purple birds cross the tops of the cedar trees, shaking them~: @@ -4909,17 +4914,17 @@ The general, while speaking, spits out the soldier's sperm ; the soldier bends h --- General, you are dismissed. The orders come from home. I put you under arrest, until a war council is appointed. ---- My little soldiers will revolt, I feed them well, I love them, I am their wife, their fianc\'{e}. Is it not so, Wildfrei~? +--- My little soldiers will revolt, I feed them well, I love them, I am their wife, their fianc\'ee. Is it not so, Wildfrei~? The general kisses the soldier on the mouth, the governor notices, hanging on the washbasin, the linen soiled with sperm and saliva ; the soldier steps over the general, he lies down besides him, his erect cock sticking out of the fly and the general touches and strokes the hardened member ; the soldier smiles, parts his thighs ; sweat sparkles between the general's nipples ; the governor leaves, the general rolls over the soldier~: ---- Wildfrei, he saw the linen, how your lips have swollen. Am I handsome ? Lick my salty sweat ; your eyelids melt under my lips ; to live on your belly, eat, sleep, drink, you holding my cock and I yours, the flow of my sperm glimmers on your belly, in a moonbeam ; I see necklaces around your neck, rings around your wrists, your feet, your thighs, a collar chain around your cock ; my tongue drags on your close-cropped hair, smooths down your eyelashes, your eyebrows, the tufts of hair at your cock and armpits ; in the street, passes the slaves' procession ; a lump in the throat, watching this unknown country, this square, where, with dawn coming, they will be brought and placed between the chalk-drawn rectangles ; and you quiver under me, you recognize the smell, the moaning ; my lips search for your mouth, in the dark, your head turns away from my face ; your belly slides, rises under me ; I take your head with both my hands, I place it, I hold under my lips ; I crush your belly, your thighs, you groan, head turned towards the window where dawn rises ; a gentle wind runs on the butchers' stalls, purifies the rotting smell ; the shopkeeper yells, the loincloths, the tatters, the bonnets of your brothers shiver in the wind ; the placard beats their chest ; you struggle, your necklaces, your rings jingle, but my sweat gradually covers them, as the sun rises, and as the chalk rectangle grows empty, you doze off in the icy sweat, you fall asleep, and I can then, with one thrust of the loins, awaken you, and lying on my belly, order you to love me, to tauten your sleepy and shivering body\ldots +--- Wildfrei, he saw the linen, how your lips have swollen. Am I handsome~? Lick my salty sweat ; your eyelids melt under my lips ; to live on your belly, eat, sleep, drink, you holding my cock and I yours, the flow of my sperm glimmers on your belly, in a moonbeam ; I see necklaces around your neck, rings around your wrists, your feet, your thighs, a collar chain around your cock ; my tongue drags on your close-cropped hair, smooths down your eyelashes, your eyebrows, the tufts of hair at your cock and armpits ; in the street, passes the slaves' procession ; a lump in the throat, watching this unknown country, this square, where, with dawn coming, they will be brought and placed between the chalk-drawn rectangles ; and you quiver under me, you recognize the smell, the moaning ; my lips search for your mouth, in the dark, your head turns away from my face ; your belly slides, rises under me ; I take your head with both my hands, I place it, I hold under my lips ; I crush your belly, your thighs, you groan, head turned towards the window where dawn rises ; a gentle wind runs on the butchers' stalls, purifies the rotting smell ; the shopkeeper yells, the loincloths, the tatters, the bonnets of your brothers shiver in the wind ; the placard beats their chest ; you struggle, your necklaces, your rings jingle, but my sweat gradually covers them, as the sun rises, and as the chalk rectangle grows empty, you doze off in the icy sweat, you fall asleep, and I can then, with one thrust of the loins, awaken you, and lying on my belly, order you to love me, to tauten your sleepy and shivering body\ldots -\ldots\ Flesh, silver, gold, nails, iris, teeth sparkle on the ravaged sheet. Your pink lips in your copper-coloured face, curl up over my cock, your saliva foams against the muscle, your lips undulate under the rise of sperm ; my balls get crushed against your cheeks, flow on your throat. I am a hound, a billy-goat, a wolf, my cock strokes your nipples ; my tongue rummages in your hair ; you, you, you're a little dog, your cock glows red in the dust ; soldier, it swells the straw daub girding your loins ; I want to cut it with my teeth, see your balls left bare ; where did you lose it ? Who tore it off from you ? I run to the enemy camp, I see you among the herd, squatting, your thighs bloody, on the grass : \said{Leave me alone. When a child, I used to lace up the master's sandals ; day and night ; you cannot buy me, the master, in order to be cured he needs my blood.} +\ldots\ Flesh, silver, gold, nails, iris, teeth sparkle on the ravaged sheet. Your pink lips in your copper-coloured face, curl up over my cock, your saliva foams against the muscle, your lips undulate under the rise of sperm ; my balls get crushed against your cheeks, flow on your throat. I am a hound, a billy-goat, a wolf, my cock strokes your nipples ; my tongue rummages in your hair ; you, you, you're a little dog, your cock glows red in the dust ; soldier, it swells the straw daub girding your loins ; I want to cut it with my teeth, see your balls left bare ; where did you lose it~? Who tore it off from you~? I run to the enemy camp, I see you among the herd, squatting, your thighs bloody, on the grass : \speech{Leave me alone. When a child, I used to lace up the master's sandals ; day and night ; you cannot buy me, the master, in order to be cured he needs my blood.} ---- Who are you ? Where do you come from~? +--- Who are you~? Where do you come from~? ---- They used to call me Wildfrei, I was born of a hunter father, and a bear-eater mother ; bear's hair got mixed with their hair. The last day of winter, my father chains up the meekest of the she-bears, to the wooden pillar in the middle of the room ; my mother prepares some cakes, my sisters put on perfume, I hear them laugh at the edge of the latch ; I am leaning against the ladder, at mid-height between the floor of the room and the latch ; the little lice jump on my fur loincloth ; my mother, her arms smeared with sugar and jam, slaps the blue paste ; through the half-opened door, I see the small flowers shiver in the snow ; my father pulls, fastens the ropes and the chains around the she bear ; I climb down, ! go out in the village ; my legs, tight in the straw daub, push the light and scented snow ; around the woods, one finds tracks of unknown beasts, since the beginning of winter ; I enter the woods, my foot strikes a piece of iron, I take it in my hand, I bring it to my father, he looks down, he throws the piece of iron in the snow, the bear opens and shuts its pale blue eyes, its breath warms my chest ; I go to the girls' shed, I call, I raise the skin curtain ; my cock grows hard ; in the semi-darkness, the lying and squatting girls sew, embroider the clothes for the feast, I sit down among them, my hair touches the leather walls of the shed ; the girls look up, then down, laugh, nudge each other ; one of them pricks my bare shoulder with her needle, I take her hand then her face, the straw around my legs scrapes the white sand on the straw and wicker mattings ; my cock swells the fur loincloth, I take the girl's lips ; the ivory stick piercing her nostrils, I nibble it ; I kiss the stagnant and black waters of her eyes, all the other girls caress me, pull me by the leg, by the arm, by the hair, by the loincloth ; at night the room's floor is soiled with blood, the she bear is hanging from the pillar, tongue sticking out from its mouth ; the bear is pierced with arrows, with feathery points. During the night, the unknown beasts come back to prowl around the woods, they crush the sheds with their rolling feet, they roll the clothes, the embroiderings, the cakes, the knives, the bear, the ladder, I leap aside, but a gloved hand grabs me, lifts me up ; in the morning, bound, huddled together, I with my loincloth's fur covered with dew, my shoulders frozen, the straw on my legs bloody, my father and my mother, forever silent, walking before me, the girls, embroiderings dragging in the snow, the iron beasts push us before them as far as the river ; using whips, men coming out of the iron beasts hurl down the older men in the icy water ; the iron beasts swim on the green water, between the slabs of drifting ice, we are bound on their backs ; the soldiers grab the girls by the legs, they knock them down, they make them drunk, they unfasten the ropes binding them, they drag them into the beasts' belly, the girls laugh, they squeal ; at night, before sunset, they throw shreds of meat between our legs ; squatting, we tear, we lift the meat ; little birds fall on our shoulders ; they pick the meat from our mouths\ldots +--- They used to call me Wildfrei, I was born of a hunter father, and a bear-eater mother ; bear's hair got mixed with their hair. The last day of winter, my father chains up the meekest of the she-bears, to the wooden pillar in the middle of the room ; my mother prepares some cakes, my sisters put on perfume, I hear them laugh at the edge of the latch ; I am leaning against the ladder, at mid-height between the floor of the room and the latch ; the little lice jump on my fur loincloth ; my mother, her arms smeared with sugar and jam, slaps the blue paste ; through the half-opened door, I see the small flowers shiver in the snow ; my father pulls, fastens the ropes and the chains around the she bear ; I climb down, I go out in the village ; my legs, tight in the straw daub, push the light and scented snow ; around the woods, one finds tracks of unknown beasts, since the beginning of winter ; I enter the woods, my foot strikes a piece of iron, I take it in my hand, I bring it to my father, he looks down, he throws the piece of iron in the snow, the bear opens and shuts its pale blue eyes, its breath warms my chest ; I go to the girls' shed, I call, I raise the skin curtain ; my cock grows hard ; in the semi-darkness, the lying and squatting girls sew, embroider the clothes for the feast, I sit down among them, my hair touches the leather walls of the shed ; the girls look up, then down, laugh, nudge each other ; one of them pricks my bare shoulder with her needle, I take her hand then her face, the straw around my legs scrapes the white sand on the straw and wicker mattings ; my cock swells the fur loincloth, I take the girl's lips ; the ivory stick piercing her nostrils, I nibble it ; I kiss the stagnant and black waters of her eyes, all the other girls caress me, pull me by the leg, by the arm, by the hair, by the loincloth ; at night the room's floor is soiled with blood, the she bear is hanging from the pillar, tongue sticking out from its mouth ; the bear is pierced with arrows, with feathery points. During the night, the unknown beasts come back to prowl around the woods, they crush the sheds with their rolling feet, they roll the clothes, the embroiderings, the cakes, the knives, the bear, the ladder, I leap aside, but a gloved hand grabs me, lifts me up ; in the morning, bound, huddled together, I with my loincloth's fur covered with dew, my shoulders frozen, the straw on my legs bloody, my father and my mother, forever silent, walking before me, the girls, embroiderings dragging in the snow, the iron beasts push us before them as far as the river ; using whips, men coming out of the iron beasts hurl down the older men in the icy water ; the iron beasts swim on the green water, between the slabs of drifting ice, we are bound on their backs ; the soldiers grab the girls by the legs, they knock them down, they make them drunk, they unfasten the ropes binding them, they drag them into the beasts' belly, the girls laugh, they squeal ; at night, before sunset, they throw shreds of meat between our legs ; squatting, we tear, we lift the meat ; little birds fall on our shoulders ; they pick the meat from our mouths\ldots All around, the enemy tents shiver ; I stroke your shoulders. All the kisses, all the caresses of all the mothers on earth, cannot wet your cheeks~: @@ -4933,7 +4938,7 @@ The soldier pushes you in the medic's legs, he takes your arm, he raises it towa --- Have him brought to me, it isn't his blood. -The medic whispers in the ear of the young boy with his cock ringed in iron, the boy comes towards you, he lifts you up, squeezes your bloody wrist between his fingers, drags you towards the master's bed ; the master takes you by the waist, he lays you on the edge of his bed, he grabs your wrist, he kisses it, he nibbles it, his lips, his tongue lick the little wound, suck the blood, the lips smack on your wrist, the blood, sucked by the master, rushes, withdraws from the veins ; your head rolls on the edge of the bed, the foam from your lips soils the sheet ; the medic strikes your nape, the master with his teeth pulls at the tear of the wound ; the medic squeezes the veins on the forearm ; above the bed, in a carved and chiselled frame, a god is smiling ; the master drops your wrist, he sprawls on his back, he wipes the sweat on his forehead with his palm ; the medic wraps a bandage around your wrist, he sends you back on the grass ; blood soils the bandage. +The medic whispers in the ear of the young boy with his cock ringed in iron, the boy comes towards you, he lifts you up, squeezes your bloody wrist between his fingers, drags you towards the master's bed ; the master takes you by the waist, he lays you on the edge of his bed, he grabs your wrist, he kisses it, he nibbles it, his lips, his tongue lick the little wound, suck the blood, the lips smack on your wrist, the blood, sucked by the master, rushes, withdraws from the veins ; your head rolls on the edge of the bed, the foam from your lips soils the sheet ; the medic strikes your nape, the master with his teeth pulls at the tear of the wound ; the medic squeezes the veins on the forearm ; above the bed, in a carved and chiseled frame, a god is smiling ; the master drops your wrist, he sprawls on his back, he wipes the sweat on his forehead with his palm ; the medic wraps a bandage around your wrist, he sends you back on the grass ; blood soils the bandage. --- You cannot buy me. Go away\ldots @@ -4961,7 +4966,7 @@ Winnetou, keeping his weapon, sits on the edge of the sofa, his buttocks against --- Yesterday I killed a little reb. ---- O cruel ! What had he done wrong~? +--- O cruel~! What had he done wrong~? --- Every night he came to sleep under the wine press. @@ -5023,7 +5028,7 @@ The two twins go to the kitchen ; Winnetou walks, shivering, on the perron ; hea --- You feel cold. You have icicles all through your body. -Anne cuts the meat ; Winnetou comes in, his hand around Alix's waist ; all sit down, eat, drink ; Winnetou spits on the fur, the twins lay their hands or their lips on the spittle, Winnetou loosens his belt, Alix moves her hand forward, touches, fiddles with the battledress buttons, Winnetou drinks, chokes, Anne slaps his back, Alix licks the splashes of rosé wine on Winnetou's cheeks ; the soldier, drunk, pushes the girl away, he throws himself on her, he knocks her down under him, Anne slips the cup of cream under his lips, Winnetou gets up again, he takes the cup, he plunges his mouth in it, he sucks up the whipped cream, he laps, he licks, Alix pulls him by the belt\ldots +Anne cuts the meat ; Winnetou comes in, his hand around Alix's waist ; all sit down, eat, drink ; Winnetou spits on the fur, the twins lay their hands or their lips on the spittle, Winnetou loosens his belt, Alix moves her hand forward, touches, fiddles with the battledress buttons, Winnetou drinks, chokes, Anne slaps his back, Alix licks the splashes of ros\'e wine on Winnetou's cheeks ; the soldier, drunk, pushes the girl away, he throws himself on her, he knocks her down under him, Anne slips the cup of cream under his lips, Winnetou gets up again, he takes the cup, he plunges his mouth in it, he sucks up the whipped cream, he laps, he licks, Alix pulls him by the belt\ldots Anne, sprawled on her back, arms folded under her nape, hums with the voice of one who's having an orgasm ; Winnetou, excited by Alix's caresses, and by Anne's voice, brings out his dripping snout from the cup, throws the cup away, takes it back, caps Alix's bare breast with it ; then, he rolls over Alix, who, panting, unbuttons him and pulls his hardened cock~: @@ -5067,13 +5072,13 @@ She sits me on her knees in the kitchen, shoves into my mouth some pieces of gri --- Why did you kill her~? ---- My father wanted it. She used to mate with all the men of the coast. She was asleep on her bed, she had made love all morning with a sailor. I prepared the lunch, I took the knife, I pushed the door, my mother was sleeping on the bed, legs spread, on the wet sheets I laid my hand, I turned my mother's throat, and I pierced it, blood rose along my arm ; my sister screamed, I smeared her face with blood ; my father, on the beach, his hand was shaking on the fishing net. I ran away. I felt like flying and like fucking. I was running through the warrens. Gal fell in front of me, he was escaping from the beetroot field. \said{I go with you ? They make me work all night, at the lighthouses.} +--- My father wanted it. She used to mate with all the men of the coast. She was asleep on her bed, she had made love all morning with a sailor. I prepared the lunch, I took the knife, I pushed the door, my mother was sleeping on the bed, legs spread, on the wet sheets I laid my hand, I turned my mother's throat, and I pierced it, blood rose along my arm ; my sister screamed, I smeared her face with blood ; my father, on the beach, his hand was shaking on the fishing net. I ran away. I felt like flying and like fucking. I was running through the warrens. Gal fell in front of me, he was escaping from the beetroot field. \speech{I go with you~? They make me work all night, at the lighthouses.} His jeans are soiled with beetroot juice, his vest spattered with manure. We hide until night in the warren, we eat blackberries. Gal cries, I hit him with my fists. At nightfall, we return to the coast, I bury Gal in the dry and tepid sand, he falls asleep, his hand holding mine. \ldots\ The seagulls play on the slope of the waves, they fly further away, then come back with dawn, I'm not sleeping, I rub my bloody hand on the white sand. -The whore takes my hand, we walk along the cliff : \said{You see, I passed there where the window is broken.} +The whore takes my hand, we walk along the cliff : \speech{You see, I passed there where the window is broken.} On the beach, she gives me back the banknotes, she goes away, she strokes my nape, she goes away. I go to the rock, Gal is squatting, he pisses in a puddle, I give him a piece of grilled meat~: @@ -5087,7 +5092,7 @@ Gal's tears fall on the sand. I jump, I rise to my feet, I grab him by the waist --- Winnetou, you killed your mother, you killed her, I saw her in the pit. -I hit him, I pick up a shingle, I hit him on the foreheaga, blood spurts out, I vomit on the sand, on Gal's face, he knocks me over, he tramples my chest with his bare foot. +I hit him, I pick up a shingle, I hit him on the forehead, blood spurts out, I vomit on the sand, on Gal's face, he knocks me over, he tramples my chest with his bare foot. In the morning, the police constables arrest us, they jump in the dried up canal, I run towards the sluice, Gal lies down, hands up ; a constable strikes him with his truncheon ; I climb on the sluice, a bullet smashes my wrist, I fall head first in the canal, my head jumps on the cement, the constable jumps on me, brains me, the irons click on my wrists, on my feet~: @@ -5103,13 +5108,13 @@ The whip cracks on the boy's nape. Gal pulls his straw mattress close to mine. ---- Leave me alone. Can't you live without me ? Hey, guys, he's my wife, that one\ldots +--- Leave me alone. Can't you live without me~? Hey, guys, he's my wife, that one\ldots I lie down, I roll myself inside my military blanket ; at the far end of the dormitory, the boys roll on the mattresses, I turn over on my back, I slightly raise my head ; some boys are smoking, the fire escape door is half-opened, I hear the rustling of fir trees ; the boys embrace each other ; two of them lying on the same mattress, legs intertwined, smoke the same cigarette which they pull from each other's mouth, their half-opened pyjamas show their erect cocks, jutting out of the brown locks. The warden enters, he walks towards the mattress, whips, tramples the two boys, the lit-up cigarette falls back on one of the boys' belly, flesh sizzles, the boy howls. In the morning, a blossoming branch rocked in the sharp wind, perfumes the corner of the double window opened wide, I lean at the window ; my shoulders shivering under the shirt, my throat bare, the honey from my ears shines in the beams of dawn ; I look at the sky, I can see circles, tanks, helmets, golden hair, I hold out my hands in the blue air, my lips crumple like dry flowers, I feel a lump in my throat my knees give way under me, I sit down on my straw mattress ; the two boys beaten yesterday drag themselves to the washroom ; the one with his navel burnt squats down, rummages in the shoe rack, he opens a box of polish, he smears his burn with wax, he gets up again, he goes to the washbasin, he plunges his hand blackened by the blows in the icy water ; the warden passes behind him, strokes his nape, with the thongs of his whip~: ---- You had nightmares, Dudored ? You had a fight in your dream~? +--- You had nightmares, Dudored~? You had a fight in your dream~? The boy straightens himself up~: @@ -5127,7 +5132,7 @@ I lie down on my straw mattress, arms folded under the nape ; Gal comes back fro He looks up, my hip is still leaning against his, he looks at me~: ---- Your mother ? How did you do that~? +--- Your mother~? How did you do that~? --- With a knife, after that I fucked the whore. @@ -5151,7 +5156,7 @@ The man raises his arms, higher, pushes his hip forward, Dudored spits on his fe --- You want me to tickle you, you shit~! -Dudored thrusts his hands in the man's pockets, turns out the pockets, his hand trembles inside the man's pocket, against the thigh ; the man has a hard- on. Dudored takes the identity card, he passes it to me, I slip it in my shorts, he takes the man's scarf, his watch ; then, turning back towards me~: +Dudored thrusts his hands in the man's pockets, turns out the pockets, his hand trembles inside the man's pocket, against the thigh ; the man has a hard-on. Dudored takes the identity card, he passes it to me, I slip it in my shorts, he takes the man's scarf, his watch ; then, turning back towards me~: --- Tell the little girl to spit at him. @@ -5169,11 +5174,11 @@ Through the open window, a bird flies in, hits the rabbit skins hanging from the --- Go away. Go back to play with the kids. -He looks down, jumps in the mud, he slips under the caravan, sits down on the sheep skins, throws his knucklebones : \said{Hop, hop, hop, hop.}, his back leaning against the axle. +He looks down, jumps in the mud, he slips under the caravan, sits down on the sheep skins, throws his knucklebones : \speech{Hop, hop, hop, hop.}, his back leaning against the axle. At night, my belly swollen with meat, wine, sugar, cream, I stir in the bed against Dudored ; the girls sleep in another caravan under the chestnut trees ; on the branches leaning against the caravan's roof, in the leaves dripping with rain and seeds, the purple birds stir, rub their beak, cheep ; the girls, under the rags, bare their ears made heavy by the copper and silver rings, listen to the birds' little din through the slats of painted wood. -\ldots\ Outside, frost seizes our shoulders, men are following us, women tear their lips on pale crayfish, with my icy fingers I stroke the stall where chestnuts fume. Gal took my other hand, Dudored walks, still smiling ; a woman, behind a window fringed with heavy red curtains, looks at our bare legs, she's drinking a big glass of iced lemonade~: +{\sloppy \ldots\ Outside, frost seizes our shoulders, men are following us, women tear their lips on pale crayfish, with my icy fingers I stroke the stall where chestnuts fume. Gal took my other hand, Dudored walks, still smiling ; a woman, behind a window fringed with heavy red curtains, looks at our bare legs, she's drinking a big glass of iced lemonade~: \par} --- We should part company because of the police. You and Gal, go, I'll go my way alone. If you wish to see me again, go to the Tcherkessians. @@ -5181,7 +5186,7 @@ There's a lump in my throat, I bite my cry, Dudored moves off, he gets lost in t --- Come, let's go to the whores. -I lead him in the brightly lit street. I approach a whore, she takes my hand, lays it on her gold lamé tummy, she laughs, her tummy quivers ; another whore, in a blue dress, caresses Gal. A man pushes me away from the whore, my foot falls in the gutter, my leg gets splashed with bloody mud ; the blue whore draws Gal against her tummy, Gal says~: +I lead him in the brightly lit street. I approach a whore, she takes my hand, lays it on her gold lam\'e tummy, she laughs, her tummy quivers ; another whore, in a blue dress, caresses Gal. A man pushes me away from the whore, my foot falls in the gutter, my leg gets splashed with bloody mud ; the blue whore draws Gal against her tummy, Gal says~: --- I'm cold, Madam. @@ -5203,7 +5208,7 @@ Her hand strokes Gal's shoulder, awake and shivering ; in the brightly lit hall, \ldots\ Her hand moves down inside my shirt, fondles my nipples, the blue whore quivers ; the slit of her dress uncovers her hip's pink and downy flesh, the fold of the thigh ; I say~: ---- So you wear nothing underneath ?. +--- So you wear nothing underneath~?. She keeps silent, I touch the flesh, I knead it under my fingers. Behind the doors leading to the corridor, I can hear laughter, creaking of bed springs, kisses, sighs, gargling, jingling of rings ; the whore closes her room ; I sit down on the edge of the bed, the sheets are undone, crumpled, wet in some spots, the pillow strewn with hairs fair and black, the middle of the sheets strewn with little brown locks; with fresh powders ; the whore pushes Gal against the washbasin, she washes his face, undresses him, rubs his chest, his back, his ears, Gal laughs, nibbles the whore's wet arm, the hot water arouses him ; the whore makes him sit on the bidet, gives him the sponge~: @@ -5255,7 +5260,7 @@ He gets up, he puts on his clothes again, he combs in front of the makeup-spatte --- Antigone, are you free or a slave~? ---- Slave. Don't you see the ring clipped to my lips ? And that one above my cunt, under the navel~? +--- Slave. Don't you see the ring clipped to my lips~? And that one above my cunt, under the navel~? --- As for me, I'm free, that's why we could wander free in the city, miserable, filthy, sleepy, but our lips bare. @@ -5267,7 +5272,7 @@ Her lips taste of flower and wind, with my thighs and my knees, I lift her legs ---- My mother. And my father, to my sister. -I take the head of Antigone, unhappy, her mouth filled with burning-hot sperm first thing in the morning and her feet crushed under the boots ; the buttons, the badges, the teeth, the nails graze your nipples ; your eyelids swollen with saliva, your eyes splashed with wine ; the fangs, the nails, the points of the bones, and of the muscles, vibrate, run on your skin. Your price ? your thighs parted by the Madam's steady hand, your lips tucked up, your teeth knocked by the crier's hammer. Your price ? your price~? +{\sloppy I take the head of Antigone, unhappy, her mouth filled with burning-hot sperm first thing in the morning and her feet crushed under the boots ; the buttons, the badges, the teeth, the nails graze your nipples ; your eyelids swollen with saliva, your eyes splashed with wine ; the fangs, the nails, the points of the bones, and of the muscles, vibrate, run on your skin. Your price~? your thighs parted by the Madam's steady hand, your lips tucked up, your teeth knocked by the crier's hammer. Your price~? your price~? \par} She weeps against my neck. Gal, drunk, his mouth full of cake, his shorts unbuttoned, his shirt wet with sweat, with tears of laughter, pushes the door, he plunges his head in the washbasin, he vomits, his shorts down on the middle of the buttocks\ldots @@ -5277,13 +5282,13 @@ In the sitting room, the twins are asleep, embraced, on the sofa. Winnetou throw A seagull rocks and cries on a floating mass of seaweed. -\chapter{Sixth Chant} +\chapter{Sixth Song} Xaintrailles sets for the following day the beginning of operation Ecbatane, named after the city in the home country, where most of the soldiers were born, where Xaintrailles and Thivai, when slaves, aroused the body and the heart of many men and women, where political chiefs, military and clergy men quarrel casually and leisurely and fight over a selfish youth. The trucks are loaded, Pino appointed chief cook as a favour from Xaintrailles, the armouries almost completely emptied, the infirmary fortified, the palaces strengthened with palisades, the archbishop's palace packed with sentries, the cardinal himself taught by a sergeant the use of a sten gun. -Xaintrailles, in the evening, visits the soldiers in their barrackrooms, Winnetou goes with him, the soldiers, sitting on their straw mattresses, silent, a lump in the throat, write on their knees short letters to their fianc\'{e}s, note down the inventory of their possessions, on the back of those letters. Xaintrailles gathers the letters, has them taken to the garrison's strongbox ; the secretaries will +Xaintrailles, in the evening, visits the soldiers in their barrackrooms, Winnetou goes with him, the soldiers, sitting on their straw mattresses, silent, a lump in the throat, write on their knees short letters to their fianc\'ees, note down the inventory of their possessions, on the back of those letters. Xaintrailles gathers the letters, has them taken to the garrison's strongbox ; the secretaries will keep watch over them. A few soldiers look up towards Xaintrailles, stare at his throat~: @@ -5302,7 +5307,7 @@ Wildfrei, a comrade of his, in the country, near El\"{o}, wrote to him that they --- Captain, why don't we go and cut off the legs of the Ectabane people~? -Xaintrailles smiles, he looks at the weapons piled against the wall, releases the boits, he bends over the knapsacks~: +Xaintrailles smiles, he looks at the weapons piled against the wall, releases the bolts, he bends over the knapsacks~: --- I had new battledresses sent. Did you get them~? @@ -5312,11 +5317,11 @@ Xaintrailles goes out~: --- Winnetou, you're not afraid~? ---- Me ? I killed my mother and Thivai, why should I be afraid to die~? +--- Me~? I killed my mother and Thivai, why should I be afraid to die~? In the kitchens, Xaintrailles lays his hand on Pino's shoulder, he's busy, with his assistants, loading the saucepans, the skewers, the knives, on the field kitchen's trailer, in the middle of the inside courtyard~: ---- You don't need anything ? No stuff missing~? +--- You don't need anything~? No stuff missing~? --- Captain, no, but one ladle disappeared. I suspect the late general of having stolen it. Understand why~? @@ -5330,7 +5335,7 @@ The two assistants, who bear the mark of the ring on their lips, bending over th Xaintrailles returns to his office, Winnetou, standing in front of the door, hands leaning on the gallery's balustrade, spits ; the radio operators' room is lit up, the sets crackle, sparkle, whine ; an operator comes out, stripped to the waist, his loins girded with a soiled cloth, he hops about in the inside courtyard, looks up, sees Winnetou standing in the gallery~: ---- Hey ! Winnetou, come and drink, I'm going to the shower, come and drink, Iolas received a package with three botties of brandy. Come down. +--- Hey~! Winnetou, come and drink, I'm going to the shower, come and drink, Iolas received a package with three bottles of brandy. Come down. --- I can't, I'm guarding the captain. @@ -5356,7 +5361,7 @@ But, Xaintrailles, eyes set on the night, keeps silent, he's dreaming. A drop of Inamenas is asleep, Xaintrailles had the avenues leading to the exits, blocked by barbed wire, guarded by sentries ; the youths of Inamenas crowd up, their motorcycles, their cars fidget, vibrate before the barbed wire, the girls open their bodice, but the sentries hold their hands out ; a boy notices the mark of the ring on a sentry's lip~: ---- You, you were a slave ? lower your arm and let us pass. Saint-Gall, may I hit him~? +--- You, you were a slave~? lower your arm and let us pass. Saint-Gall, may I hit him~? --- No, he's a soldier, he can complain. Let's go back. @@ -5398,7 +5403,7 @@ The gulls soar above his head, stand still at the crossroads of the winds. At dawn, Xaintrailles pushes the doors, claps his hands. In one hour and a half, the trucks are loaded, the soldiers washed, armed, sitting on the rails, the trailers lifted up and hitched on. On the motorways, the sentries clear the barricades ; the trucks drive towards the Royal Palace Vale, leave the motorway, veer underneath it, join the sea ; a girl in shorts rides an old bicycle, against the wind, her thighs rub the saddle ; Virido gets up, the truck overtakes the girl, Virido, his sten gun dragging on the rail with a noise of bolts, pulls off his light helmet~: ---- How's life ? Foaming~? +--- How's life~? Foaming~? The soldiers laugh, the girl tilts her torso and hair backwards, her hair rolls on her shoulders, her shiny teeth foam~: @@ -5406,11 +5411,11 @@ The soldiers laugh, the girl tilts her torso and hair backwards, her hair rolls Xaintrailles, in his jeep, hears the girl, he looks back ; Virido, standing against the rail, legs parted, shakes his cock through the battledress cloth~: ---- Don't you want it ? All warm, all fresh. +--- Don't you want it~? All warm, all fresh. -The girl, whose shorts are caught in the fold of the thigh, keeps pedalling, panting, forehead bathed by a golden gleam ; the truck overtakes her, Virido whistles, he sees the girl's buttocks roll on the saddle and stretch and crease the shorts' light cloth and the movement uncovers the flesh of the buttocks between the shirt knotted on the navel and the top of the shorts. Virido has a hard- on, and so do all the soldiers ; the girl, whistled at by the soldiers of the rear trucks, throws her hair back ; her cunt is swollen, squeezed, hurt by the fold of the shorts, heated by the friction of the saddle, the soldiers hold it under their hands, they stroke it, they press it, they kiss it with their icy lips. +The girl, whose shorts are caught in the fold of the thigh, keeps pedalling, panting, forehead bathed by a golden gleam ; the truck overtakes her, Virido whistles, he sees the girl's buttocks roll on the saddle and stretch and crease the shorts' light cloth and the movement uncovers the flesh of the buttocks between the shirt knotted on the navel and the top of the shorts. Virido has a hard-on, and so do all the soldiers ; the girl, whistled at by the soldiers of the rear trucks, throws her hair back ; her cunt is swollen, squeezed, hurt by the fold of the shorts, heated by the friction of the saddle, the soldiers hold it under their hands, they stroke it, they press it, they kiss it with their icy lips. ---- Succinio, you know that girl ? Who is she~? +--- Succinio, you know that girl~? Who is she~? --- Yes, she's a whore\ldots\ a free one, she gets fucked at the Royal Palace ; she also does the village men, the old, the young. Captain, if you'll allow me, I'll tell you how she fucks\ldots @@ -5422,13 +5427,13 @@ The girl, whose shorts are caught in the fold of the thigh, keeps pedalling, pan Iolas nudges Succinio, their earphones get entangled~: ---- Iolas, you still have headquarters ? Tell them we're in NY 22. +--- Iolas, you still have headquarters~? Tell them we're in NY 22. Iolas handles the message, his foot strikes the wooden casket, Xaintrailles shivers~: --- And that girl, what's her name~? ---- Nik\'{e}. +--- Nik\'e. --- Stop, Baby. @@ -5472,7 +5477,7 @@ In the livingroom, Xaintrailles waits for farmer Talbot~: --- Thivai is dead. Butchered by the commandos. ---- My father said : \said{Xaintrailles should have kept the general alive.} +--- My father said : \speech{Xaintrailles should have kept the general alive.} --- I was in jail when they killed him. @@ -5487,7 +5492,7 @@ Risen from the mud, from the bed of infamy, we march towards you, Pho\"{\i}bos. \secbreak -Xaintrailles bends over the girl, her gluey tummy is throbbing. When Xaintrailles touches it, fire seizes the girl, makes her writhe ; her cunt is bleeding, tufts, torn off the mop of hair, glide with the wind on the dust. The soldiers, all of them sitting, drowsy, on the rails, rifle squeezed between the thighs, stare at Xaintrailles, eyes half-shut and knee quivering. Xaintrailles lifts the girl up by the shoulders, he drags her to the jeep, makes her sit down, the jeep starts off. Baby casts a sharp glance at the girl. Xaintrailles, leaning out, his foot on the mudguard, opens his nostrils to the scents of the ground. Baby's hand caps the gear stick, fondles it ; the girl, her eyes half-shut, smiles. Baby rubs the ball of the stick, he bends over the girl, she chuckles ; sweat ices Baby's back, Nik\'{e}'s soft laugh gives him a hard-on ; his hand scratches the seat's canvas against Nik\'{e}'s thigh ; under the tatters, the girl's cunt, burnt, glowing red, swells again, the tatter grows moist ; Baby at a glance, notices it, his hand, then, touches it, shifts it, uncovers the mop of hair which slowly opens up, like a hedgehog's fur, under the thrust of the cunt's lips. +Xaintrailles bends over the girl, her gluey tummy is throbbing. When Xaintrailles touches it, fire seizes the girl, makes her writhe ; her cunt is bleeding, tufts, torn off the mop of hair, glide with the wind on the dust. The soldiers, all of them sitting, drowsy, on the rails, rifle squeezed between the thighs, stare at Xaintrailles, eyes half-shut and knee quivering. Xaintrailles lifts the girl up by the shoulders, he drags her to the jeep, makes her sit down, the jeep starts off. Baby casts a sharp glance at the girl. Xaintrailles, leaning out, his foot on the mudguard, opens his nostrils to the scents of the ground. Baby's hand caps the gear stick, fondles it ; the girl, her eyes half-shut, smiles. Baby rubs the ball of the stick, he bends over the girl, she chuckles ; sweat ices Baby's back, Nik\'e's soft laugh gives him a hard-on ; his hand scratches the seat's canvas against Nik\'e's thigh ; under the tatters, the girl's cunt, burnt, glowing red, swells again, the tatter grows moist ; Baby at a glance, notices it, his hand, then, touches it, shifts it, uncovers the mop of hair which slowly opens up, like a hedgehog's fur, under the thrust of the cunt's lips. Xaintrailles sets his foot again inside the jeep, Baby's hand runs on the girl's thigh ; Baby's light helmet slides on his nape. @@ -5503,13 +5508,13 @@ Xaintrailles sets his foot again inside the jeep, Baby's hand runs on the girl's --- In Titov Veles, Baby will give you one of mine. ---- They're dirty, your soldiers. Say, captain, will you keep me with you ? I'd like to watch the battle. +--- They're dirty, your soldiers. Say, captain, will you keep me with you~? I'd like to watch the battle. \secbreak The planes escort the convoy. In the evening, they arrive in the city of Titov Veles --- so named because, in an era of destiny, the Spirit of Evil was tracked down there, hunted, captured, and burned by a shepherd named Veles. The young shepherd was helped in that fight by the Sun, which sent its blazing beams and illuminated the place where the Spirit Of Evil lived under the waters of a river, in great luxury, having received his wealth from those youths whom he had initiated into carnal, sensory pleasures. -Those from Titov Veles, hostile to the rebellion, for the reason that the rebels proclaimed the end of their privileges, crowd around the convoy ; women and girls stroke the soldiers' knees, the men, coming down from their perrons, grab Xaintrailles' arm ; all night, in spite of the order of abstinence, the soldiers, sprawled about in the houses, their feet bathed, oiled, lips, cheeks shaved by the slaves, drown their fears in wine. The sentries guarding the convoy, cheeks lit up by the light from windows, wait for Nik\'{e} to pass by, still dressed in tatters she kneels down and gives them a wank, with little words sweet and obscene ; sperm gushes out on the battledress, spatters the dust or the truck's wheel, Nik\'{e}, her hand splashed, squeezes the cock into her mouth and the soldier, his legs stiffened, sinks his fingers in the girl's gluey and heavy hair. Petrol sings underneath the chassis. +Those from Titov Veles, hostile to the rebellion, for the reason that the rebels proclaimed the end of their privileges, crowd around the convoy ; women and girls stroke the soldiers' knees, the men, coming down from their perrons, grab Xaintrailles' arm ; all night, in spite of the order of abstinence, the soldiers, sprawled about in the houses, their feet bathed, oiled, lips, cheeks shaved by the slaves, drown their fears in wine. The sentries guarding the convoy, cheeks lit up by the light from windows, wait for Nik\'e to pass by, still dressed in tatters she kneels down and gives them a wank, with little words sweet and obscene ; sperm gushes out on the battledress, spatters the dust or the truck's wheel, Nik\'e, her hand splashed, squeezes the cock into her mouth and the soldier, his legs stiffened, sinks his fingers in the girl's gluey and heavy hair. Petrol sings underneath the chassis. Xaintrailles, his casket on the bedside table, falls asleep in a comfortable bed. Those from Titov Veles, with the officers of their garrison, play a bloody game : the prisoners, chiefs or simple rebels, on their way back from questioning, if they're not dead or too badly mutilated, are kept in the city jail then sold or rented to former fencing masters or sports managers who train them, day and night, to perform dangerous fights, jumps, races ; but, at the end of those exercises, they have them mate with Inamenas whores, and the children thus conceived, belong to them ; private individuals then offer themselves the spectacle of those exercises, at night, at the bottom of their private covered swimming pools ; blood, dust spatter the palmtrees and the panes of the glass roof ; when a man is killed, the fight or the lethal exercise is suspended, the dead body dragged, pulled on the ladder by slaves and sold to the flesh merchants whose servants, most of them slaves, wait outside the glass roof, dozing inside the van, the merchant keeps the bodies in an ice box and sells them to the common people, on days of famine and of rebellion. The prisoners, blinded by the neon lights, weakened by drugs, fight clumsily, blood streams, accumulates at the drain, the wounded roll in that blood, back, thigh pierced by pitiable weapons : kitchen knives, can openers, corkscrews, nail files\ldots\ Others, legs or arms broken during the jumps, writhe under the fighters ; others still, run all around the pool, chest hollowed, lips covered with a bloody dribble ; the officers back the fighters on whose chest, in full flesh, they had a slave hook the badge of their battalion. @@ -5541,9 +5546,9 @@ At dawn, the convoy was reduced by thirteen trucks, that were left in the Titov Xaintrailles takes with him four trucks, two command-cars, two jeeps ; seven platoons of fifty men each ; three half-tracks ; ten crates of hand grenades, a complete equipment for mining and mine clearance ; the small convoy advances at low speed, enters Thilissi gorge, skirts round the massif on top of which lies the Cave of Foxes, the rebels' headquarters. Three planes follow the convoy. -B\'{e}ja scans the slope of his mountain with binoculars stolen while ransacking the coastal post ; at the end of the cave, experts from the friend country are assembling the pieces of the helicopters ; the airmen play with the rebels at the cave's mouth ; this one, several times attacked, is impregnable for the reason that the planes, hammering it with bombs and tracer bullets, and burning it with streams of napalm, the cave's mouth, happening to face the sea, and being protected under the gorge, the wind from the sea stops the fire and sends the smoke back, and the bombs explode in the gorge's shingle bed. +B\'eja scans the slope of his mountain with binoculars stolen while ransacking the coastal post ; at the end of the cave, experts from the friend country are assembling the pieces of the helicopters ; the airmen play with the rebels at the cave's mouth ; this one, several times attacked, is impregnable for the reason that the planes, hammering it with bombs and tracer bullets, and burning it with streams of napalm, the cave's mouth, happening to face the sea, and being protected under the gorge, the wind from the sea stops the fire and sends the smoke back, and the bombs explode in the gorge's shingle bed. -B\'{e}ja sees the trucks on the road and the planes in the sky ; the convoy stops at an isolated post, hill 720, nicknamed, by the soldiers the Tower of the Pig : the Titov Veles commander had placed there a pig that he owned, for it to get fat, under the care of the soldiers, in the open air ; those same soldiers and the commando platoon, gone up there to mine the massif, one night of drunkenness and hunger, had slit its throat, cut it up and eaten all night, sprawled on the grass around the post. That commander, the following day, went up to the post, and asked to see his pig ; the soldiers showed him the opened fence, saying it had been taken by the rebels, while the cook, with a few soldiers, threw the remains under the stew-pans and buried the bones and shreds of skin, with a hayfork, under the manure. The commander climbed back into his jeep, shoved the driver aside, took the wheel ; at that moment, commando radio operator Thivai's dog, ran to rub itself against the jeep's tyre, holding in its mouth the pig's tail and ears. +B\'eja sees the trucks on the road and the planes in the sky ; the convoy stops at an isolated post, hill 720, nicknamed, by the soldiers the Tower of the Pig : the Titov Veles commander had placed there a pig that he owned, for it to get fat, under the care of the soldiers, in the open air ; those same soldiers and the commando platoon, gone up there to mine the massif, one night of drunkenness and hunger, had slit its throat, cut it up and eaten all night, sprawled on the grass around the post. That commander, the following day, went up to the post, and asked to see his pig ; the soldiers showed him the opened fence, saying it had been taken by the rebels, while the cook, with a few soldiers, threw the remains under the stew-pans and buried the bones and shreds of skin, with a hayfork, under the manure. The commander climbed back into his jeep, shoved the driver aside, took the wheel ; at that moment, commando radio operator Thivai's dog, ran to rub itself against the jeep's tyre, holding in its mouth the pig's tail and ears. Around the post lies the village of Thilissi, several times ransacked by the rebels : that village, famous in all the island of Inamenas, and as far as Ecbatane, for its pottery and for its blankets, was inhabited by very handsome people, covered with jewels and speaking only in poems. At the beginning of the century, those from Titov Veles, had tried to submit them to their martial law, the children had been captured and taken down to Titov Veles, their head shaven, and were placed in the army barracks, but their hands could not hold and handle the weapons given to them to defend the republic ; vainly, the rebels, fifty years later had wanted them to regain a freedom which their poems didn't say they had ever lost. Therefore, they had, during daytime, surrounded the village, burned the houses, the workshops, the cattle, which were running away in the meadows, while they set fire to the bramble, the haystacks, the fruit trees ; butchered with an axe, ten children lying in their cradles, at the entrance of the small gardens ; the occupation army, then, was distributing sacks of wheat, soldiers adopted the children of those who had been slaughtered and took care of them in the post, but, neither the orphans, nor the widows, would reveal the rebels' hiding place, for the reason that they saw them only during slaughter. @@ -5553,17 +5558,17 @@ The soldiers, having come down to Thilissi, go and drink, under a palm roof, a p Virido, Winnetou, Succinio, lying under the roof, mouth scented with wine and honey, stomach appeased, fall asleep, their weapons laid on the damp straw ; jackals assault the walls of houses on the village border, claw the saltpetre and roll on their back, with cries of terror ; towards the top of the village, on the rampart walk of the fortified post, the sentry drags his hand on the wall bristling with glass points. Inside the barrackroom, a soldier lays a child on the straw mattress of a comrade slaughtered by the rebels ; he undresses the child, rolls him in the blanket ; on the table, in the pools of coffee, a closed film magazine, is bathing, ink mixes with coffee ; the soldier bends over the child, draws a cross on his forehead, the child, his eyes wide open, pulls his hand from under the blanket, touches the soldier's arm ; the soldier straightens himself up, he goes to sit on the stool, takes the film magazine, shakes it, opens it, reads it under the flickering light ; when the light goes out, he sticks the wire again in the battery hole ; the sentry stops at the door, other soldiers arrive, with shrill voices, their shirt opened, some of them with bare feet, the sentry puts a finger on his mouth, the soldiers then become silent, they enter the room, undress in the dark, lie down and dream, knees raised, hand fiddling with the little chain around their neck. -Virido, and some of the soldiers involved in the operation, have installed their camp beds in the post's attic, under the watchtower towards which one climbs through a latch in the roof of that same attic ; they lie down, they fight, roll on the camp beds, paint themselves, they sew up their battledress ; the post's chief, a young volunteer sergeant, who came back from Titov Veles with Xaintrailles --- his chiefs assembled in a martial court forgave him the murder of a soldier who refused to go and fight --- enters the kitchen where Pino is washing the dishes with his assistants and the post's cooks. He's drunk, he holds a bottle of liquor in his hand, he grabs a knife on the table, he pricks Pino's buttocks, those of the other cooks, who don't move : \said{Leave him alone, he's drunk, it will pass away.} +Virido, and some of the soldiers involved in the operation, have installed their camp beds in the post's attic, under the watchtower towards which one climbs through a latch in the roof of that same attic ; they lie down, they fight, roll on the camp beds, paint themselves, they sew up their battledress ; the post's chief, a young volunteer sergeant, who came back from Titov Veles with Xaintrailles --- his chiefs assembled in a martial court forgave him the murder of a soldier who refused to go and fight --- enters the kitchen where Pino is washing the dishes with his assistants and the post's cooks. He's drunk, he holds a bottle of liquor in his hand, he grabs a knife on the table, he pricks Pino's buttocks, those of the other cooks, who don't move : \speech{Leave him alone, he's drunk, it will pass away.} The sergeant drags the blade across the nape of Pino whose face is shrouded with steam and sweat~: ---- Well then, the cooks ? in Inamenas, little perfumed soldiers, you were eating prime cuts ; always the first at Commissariat arrivals, the good bits for your bastard officers, the bad ones for the bums in the sticks. Here, one eats jackal meat. And one doesn't fuck. One worships the cloud. Snotty-nosed ones who killed your general. For five years I've been dying in this gorge. And I get court- martialled because I killed a traitor. I can't speak any more. Shit sticks to my ass. Those at the court were holding their noses ; I'm twenty-two years old. I never saw any girls. Once only, I slept with one of my men\ldots\ I threw up for three days afterwards. +--- Well then, the cooks~? in Inamenas, little perfumed soldiers, you were eating prime cuts ; always the first at Commissariat arrivals, the good bits for your bastard officers, the bad ones for the bums in the sticks. Here, one eats jackal meat. And one doesn't fuck. One worships the cloud. Snotty-nosed ones who killed your general. For five years I've been dying in this gorge. And I get court-martialled because I killed a traitor. I can't speak any more. Shit sticks to my ass. Those at the court were holding their noses ; I'm twenty-two years old. I never saw any girls. Once only, I slept with one of my men\ldots\ I threw up for three days afterwards. I'll get to the cloud before you. There's my woman-flame. I shove her up my mouth and up my ass. Rub, rub, washerwomen, beat, sluts. You. You. You. You. He pricks the knot of the small cord on the cooks' loins, he laughs, he drinks, he spits, sweat shines on his forehead, under the fair locks. The sergeant leaves the kitchen, he throws the knife in the manure, he goes round the post, he catches the sentry standing against the parapet and masturbating under the moon~: --- Do like me, stupid, drink. Here, drink. -He uncorks the bottle and throws the liquor on the mouth of the soldier who licks his lips, takes his hand out from his battledress, drinks from the bottle until he chokes. The sergeant goes back to the kitchen, he appears at the door, he laughs, passes behind the cooks, unfastens the small cord of their aprons. Then he grabs from the bloodstained table, a rolling pin, he goes towards Pino, he strikes him, hard, on the temple ; Pino collapses, the sergeant strikes him on the throat ; a cook attacks the sergeant, pulls the rolling pin away from him ; the sergeant breaks loose, he escapes into the night ; the cook picks Pino up, lays him in the alcove, Pino opens his eyes, at the corner of the lips and on his throat, blood spurts out, flowers under the skin. The sergeant goes up to the attic, he opens the latch; hoists himself up in the watchtower ; the commandos, upright on their camp beds, scratch their foot, their cock, their back ; the sergeant, his pistol dangling on his hip, throws himself on the sentry, pushes him towards the hole, the soldier falls on a commando, whose foot, turned up, breaks, the commando yells, the sentry gets up again, hooks his hands to the latch, but the sergeant tramples them with his rangers ; then he turns the machine gun, he points it at the sky, he tilts it down over the hole, he cocks it, he fires, bullets tear up the floor, the commandos dash into the staircase, the sergeant fires, riddles the camp beds, the commandos knock at the door of Xaintrailles's room, grab their weapons and go up the stairs to the attic again. Saltpetre runs on their bare backs ; the sergeant tilts the machine gun upwards, he points it at the sky, he aims at the spot of the horizon where the sacred cloud has fallen tonight ; he fires, he screams, he fires, his feet stamp the watchtower's floor, his sleeves are tucked up on his forearms, he aims at the stars, the planets, the nebulae, the gunshots detonate, echo, in the caves of the mountain, in the gorges as far as Titov Veles, where the chiefs believe captain Xaintrailles to have started Operation Ecbatane early and the youths jump out of bed and go down in pyjamas in the street and all of them assemble at the gymnasium, to keep awake there around a fire and under the image of the statue, in sign of union with the fighting men. +He uncorks the bottle and throws the liquor on the mouth of the soldier who licks his lips, takes his hand out from his battledress, drinks from the bottle until he chokes. The sergeant goes back to the kitchen, he appears at the door, he laughs, passes behind the cooks, unfastens the small cord of their aprons. Then he grabs from the bloodstained table, a rolling pin, he goes towards Pino, he strikes him, hard, on the temple ; Pino collapses, the sergeant strikes him on the throat ; a cook attacks the sergeant, pulls the rolling pin away from him ; the sergeant breaks loose, he escapes into the night ; the cook picks Pino up, lays him in the alcove, Pino opens his eyes, at the corner of the lips and on his throat, blood spurts out, flowers under the skin. The sergeant goes up to the attic, he opens the latch; hoists himself up in the watchtower ; the commandos, upright on their camp beds, scratch their foot, their cock, their back ; the sergeant, his pistol dangling on his hip, throws himself on the sentry, pushes him towards the hole, the soldier falls on a commando, whose foot, turned up, breaks, the commando yells, the sentry gets up again, hooks his hands to the latch, but the sergeant tramples them with his rangers ; then he turns the machine gun, he points it at the sky, he tilts it down over the hole, he cocks it, he fires, bullets tear up the floor, the commandos dash into the staircase, the sergeant fires, riddles the camp beds, the commandos knock at the door of Xaintrailles' room, grab their weapons and go up the stairs to the attic again. Saltpetre runs on their bare backs ; the sergeant tilts the machine gun upwards, he points it at the sky, he aims at the spot of the horizon where the sacred cloud has fallen tonight ; he fires, he screams, he fires, his feet stamp the watchtower's floor, his sleeves are tucked up on his forearms, he aims at the stars, the planets, the nebulae, the gunshots detonate, echo, in the caves of the mountain, in the gorges as far as Titov Veles, where the chiefs believe captain Xaintrailles to have started Operation Ecbatane early and the youths jump out of bed and go down in pyjamas in the street and all of them assemble at the gymnasium, to keep awake there around a fire and under the image of the statue, in sign of union with the fighting men. The sergeant throws his bottle out of the watchtower, it explodes on the rampart walk, the fragments, the broken glass sparkle at the sentry's feet ; the sergeant hears a noise in the attic, he grabs his pistol, Xaintrailles dashes forward, he catches his feet ; the sergeant losing his balance aims at him ; with a carbine shot, Xaintrailles sends the pistol flying, he then hoists himself up in the watchtower, overpowers the sergeant, slaps him, the machine gun swivels, Xaintrailles brings it to a standstill, unloads it~: @@ -5577,7 +5582,7 @@ And he jumps into his jeep, he strikes in the forehead the sergeant held by the \secbreak -B\'{e}ja has the helicopters taken out of the cave : they are pushed on side of the mountain facing the sea. The soldiers, leaning at the windows, at the walls of the rampart walk, shrug their shoulders ; nipples hooked to the saltpetre, they spit down below on the jeep's bonnet ; the commander looks up, the soldiers crouch down, the commander turns back~: +B\'eja has the helicopters taken out of the cave : they are pushed on side of the mountain facing the sea. The soldiers, leaning at the windows, at the walls of the rampart walk, shrug their shoulders ; nipples hooked to the saltpetre, they spit down below on the jeep's bonnet ; the commander looks up, the soldiers crouch down, the commander turns back~: --- You, Hermione, wipe that spittle shining under the moon. @@ -5599,33 +5604,33 @@ The soldiers back at the windows, at the walls, watch the jeep jolt along throug The jeep comes out of the village, speeds towards the gorge ; all of a sudden, shouts, flashes on the top of the slope ; the jeep speeds up, a bullet pierces the front right tyre ; the jeep skids, crashes against a rock, the soldiers jump, crouch down behind the bashed in jeep, a grenade hisses, falls in its middle, on the back of the seat, the commander jumps on the road, a bullet flattens him against the bonnet, the jeep blows up, explodes, burns, blazes, crackles, blows, sizzles, the soldiers, behind, fire engulfs them from foot to head, they howl, they roll, standing against the rock ; the tufts of broom above the rock catch fire, those tufts, ablaze, roll, disintegrate on the soldiers' heads ; three rebels jump on the road, one of them pulls the commander's half-charred body, pierces his throat, soils his uniform, takes the weapon, the two others fire at the soldiers jumping against the rock ; Xaintrailles runs into the post, he assembles all the soldiers, weapons fly above their heads ; the soldiers, stripped to the waist, helmet rolling on the nape, run through the sleeping village, lie down behind a small building site on the way out from the village, aim at the rebels, fire ; the rebels, lit up by the gleam of the dying fire, made languid by the heat of the blaze, intoxicated by the smell of powder, clutch their weapons in their weakened fists, the bullets mow them down, they collapse in the dust ; the soldiers fire at the slope, higher up, as far as the vines lit up by the fire, shadows run between the vine branches ; the soldiers fire, the shadows jump, the dust from the shaken leaves falls back on the toppled bodies in the hollows of which the blood moves forward like the flies. -The soldiers come out of the building site, walk on the road ; the soldiers, behind the jeep with its incandescent metal plates, lying on the rock, throw out their charred arms towards the open air ; Xaintrailles comes close, he touches one of those hands, it crumbles, ash runs on the soldier's bloody foot ; then, gradually, in the freed air, in the night's sharp wind, the bodies relax, slide against the rock and collapse on the road, raising the ash ; their lips, their hands bloody under the ash covering them, writhe, tremble ; so do they die, the arteries, the eyes, the muscles burnt, under the gaze of the soldiers back from the vines, hips covered with dust and crushed grapes ; in the twisted, incandescent scrap heap, a mass of ashes raised by the strength of the wind, a leg dressed in charred tatters, and folded on the back of the seat ; and on the knee, the small chain, and the enrolment plate, intact ; Xaintrailles bends over, the commander, pulled by the rebel in the middle of the road, his bare belly is roasted, its blisters look like flies grappling onto a purulent carrion. +The soldiers come out of the building site, walk on the road ; the soldiers, behind the jeep with its incandescent metal plates, lying on the rock, throw out their charred arms towards the open air ; Xaintrailles comes close, he touches one of those hands, it crumbles, ash runs on the soldier's bloody foot ; then, gradually, in the freed air, in the night's sharp wind, the bodies relax, slide against the rock and collapse on the road, raising the ash ; their lips, their hands bloody under the ash covering them, writhe, tremble ; so do they die, the arteries, the eyes, the muscles burnt, under the gaze of the soldiers back from the vines, hips covered with dust and crushed grapes ; in the twisted, incandescent scrap heap, a mass of ashes raised by the strength of the wind, a leg dressed in charred tatters, and folded on the back of the seat ; and on the knee, the small chain, and the enrollment plate, intact ; Xaintrailles bends over, the commander, pulled by the rebel in the middle of the road, his bare belly is roasted, its blisters look like flies grappling onto a purulent carrion. \secbreak Xaintrailles leaves a sergeant and three platoons at the post, he moves into the mountain with four platoons, he hunts down the rebels who left the vines before the hounds and disappeared in the night, through the cordon. At dawn, he stops below the rebels' cave, the radio operator calls Titov Veles, the planes take off on Xaintrailles' order, fly up the gorge, Xaintrailles and his men crawl under the bramble ; the planes spot the platoons, Xaintrailles, by radio, orders the pilots to direct and protect the assault ; the rebels, hiding in the rocks, lying on the ridges, their throbbing throat getting caught in the bramble, cock their rifles ; they blocked the entrance to the cave with stones, during the night, they dug exit passages all around the cave, pulled out tufts and shrubs, so as to prevent a surprise attack. -The planes swoop down on the cave, Xaintrailles and his men climb towards the gorge, the planes machine-gun the rebels, Xaintrailles, taking advantage of the confusion, rushes in to the gorge, he looks for the cave's mouth, the soldiers' rifles strike the stones ; the rebels flee towards the emergency passages, the planes machine-gun them ; B\'{e}ja, on the seaward slope, orders his three helicopters to take off, they dive towards the sea, fly over the motorway, swoop on Inamenas ; each helicopter drops thirty-five bombs on the government palace, on headquarters, on the command post, on the harbour ; over the airport, they get machine-gunned by planes taking off and giving them chase ; two helicopters are shot down, B\'{e}ja's gets back to the mountain, B\'{e}ja jumps off, the planes coming from Inamenas join the ones machine-gunning the cave ; Xaintrailles, in the din of stones and bullets, scans the wall, the chaos of rocks ; the rebels crawl beneath the rocks ; the hillock above the cave catches fire ; the rebels having escaped through the emergency exits, skirt round the mountain and attack Xaintrailles in the rear ; the planes dive into the gorge, one of them, its wing having struck an overhanging rock, blazes up and falls whirling down ; smoke blinds Xaintrailles, a rebel pulls his weapon from him and fires it off in his back ; Xaintrailles seizes his own belly with both hands and he collapses, the soldiers are shouting in the smoke ; two planes crash against a spur, their carcasses roll, split the rocks and shatter on the bed of shingle ; soldiers caught under those pieces of incandescent metal, howl, their hands curl up, on the metal edge and melt at once, hissing ; B\'{e}ja, his hand injured by a bullet received over Inamenas, jumps in the gorge, appears in the midst of the soldiers, kills six of them straight off, the rebels surround them ; some, hiding on the overhangs, fire at the planes with machine-guns, the soldiers, disarmed, pick up stones and throw them on the rebels clinging to the vibrating machine-guns, climb up the walls, hurl the brained rebels off the platforms, reload the machine-guns, burn their hands and arms on them. +The planes swoop down on the cave, Xaintrailles and his men climb towards the gorge, the planes machine-gun the rebels, Xaintrailles, taking advantage of the confusion, rushes in to the gorge, he looks for the cave's mouth, the soldiers' rifles strike the stones ; the rebels flee towards the emergency passages, the planes machine-gun them ; B\'eja, on the seaward slope, orders his three helicopters to take off, they dive towards the sea, fly over the motorway, swoop on Inamenas ; each helicopter drops thirty-five bombs on the government palace, on headquarters, on the command post, on the harbour ; over the airport, they get machine-gunned by planes taking off and giving them chase ; two helicopters are shot down, B\'eja's gets back to the mountain, B\'eja jumps off, the planes coming from Inamenas join the ones machine-gunning the cave ; Xaintrailles, in the din of stones and bullets, scans the wall, the chaos of rocks ; the rebels crawl beneath the rocks ; the hillock above the cave catches fire ; the rebels having escaped through the emergency exits, skirt round the mountain and attack Xaintrailles in the rear ; the planes dive into the gorge, one of them, its wing having struck an overhanging rock, blazes up and falls whirling down ; smoke blinds Xaintrailles, a rebel pulls his weapon from him and fires it off in his back ; Xaintrailles seizes his own belly with both hands and he collapses, the soldiers are shouting in the smoke ; two planes crash against a spur, their carcasses roll, split the rocks and shatter on the bed of shingle ; soldiers caught under those pieces of incandescent metal, howl, their hands curl up, on the metal edge and melt at once, hissing ; B\'eja, his hand injured by a bullet received over Inamenas, jumps in the gorge, appears in the midst of the soldiers, kills six of them straight off, the rebels surround them ; some, hiding on the overhangs, fire at the planes with machine-guns, the soldiers, disarmed, pick up stones and throw them on the rebels clinging to the vibrating machine-guns, climb up the walls, hurl the brained rebels off the platforms, reload the machine-guns, burn their hands and arms on them. -Xaintrailles' body, trampled, burned, lapidated by the stones thrown by the soldiers, Virido, hidden in the smoke, bends down, he pushes the stones aside, he clears the feet, he pulls them, a rebel leaps forward, grabs Virido by the waist, Virido takes out his knife and, the rebel still clutching his waist with his arms, he thrusts his knife over the arms, into the lower abdomen ; the rebel's arms let go, he collapses, his head running along Virido's buttocks ; the soldier takes his weapon and his cartridge belts ; Virido tramples the rebel's head, he lays his foot on the rebel's belly, he crows like a cock, shakes his bare hair, dives into the fight, brains, guns down, slaughters, his hand, his throat, his thighs covered with powder and blood, his lips foaming, his forehead blue with anger ; the ones he wounded, he pushes them with his fist ; a rebel aims at him, he leaps, turns round him, grabs his jaw and throws him against the rock, another tears his battledress, the tatters get trampled by the soldiers, Virido, legs bare, rushes at the rebel, kills him with a bullet in the belly and a dagger thrust in the throat, the rebel collapses, Virido squats down, pulls the rebel's battledress by the feet, tears it off from him ; then, hiding behind a spur, he slips on the battledress, tightens the waist, a rebel who saw him, rushes at the soldier, Virido raises his belt, whirls it, the rebel comes closer, the belt strikes him in the forehead, whips his face, blinds his eyes, Virido springs forward, the rebel, his hands before him, steps back, Virido whips his eyes, his lips, blood rises, spurts out, Virido waves his dagger, he thrusts it into the rebel's chest, the blade tears through the lung, the rebel collapses, his blood splashes the front of Virido's body, who, spitting, snuffling, chest raised by hiccups, sperm and piss gushing out of his taut cock, throws himself in the midst of combat ; Winnetou, Wildfrei, Dafni, are fighting step by step under an overhang ; B\'{e}ja, shoulder torn by a tracer bullet fired from a blazing plane, runs in the gorge, assembles all his men, all come out from between the rocks, other planes take off from Inamenas on fire, the rebels surround the platoons, throw grenades, the soldiers jump, their limbs ripped off, bump into unscathed soldiers, knock them down on the shingle ; Virido, coming out of the smoke, attacks B\'{e}ja in the rear, but B\'{e}ja hears his footsteps on the shingle, he turns round, he fires off his sten gun in Virido's belly, the soldier screams and collapses on the shingle, breaks his teeth and nose against them ; B\'{e}ja fires point-blank in the back and shoulders of the soldier, who jumps, blood spurts out of his lips, spatters the white and luminous stones ; Winnetou, driven back against the rock by three rebels coming forward, their knives open in their bloody hands, shouts, spits, his sten gun's magazine shinies on the shingle, it's empty, Winnetou picks it up, he throws it at a rebel, then, pulling out his knife, taking his sten gun and placing it before his chest, he makes a rush upon the rebels whose weapons, jammed by dust and blood, jingle at their feet ; Winnetou flings himself upon the flaming knives, they pierce his thighs, his belly, burn his hands, Winnetou plunges his knife in the raised dust through which the shingle sparkles, blood burns on his throat, slides on his shoulder like a caress, his eyes grow moist, blood seeps from his cheeks, from his knees ; all around, the bodies bloody, charred, fume under the sun ; a song rises from the mouths crammed with pebbles ; the purple birds, the doves, escaped from the holes, from their nests under the roots, the larks, from their nests under the shingle shooting out, cry, over the fray, drawn, intoxicated by the smell of powder and blood. +{\sloppy Xaintrailles' body, trampled, burned, lapidated by the stones thrown by the soldiers, Virido, hidden in the smoke, bends down, he pushes the stones aside, he clears the feet, he pulls them, a rebel leaps forward, grabs Virido by the waist, Virido takes out his knife and, the rebel still clutching his waist with his arms, he thrusts his knife over the arms, into the lower abdomen ; the rebel's arms let go, he collapses, his head running along Virido's buttocks ; the soldier takes his weapon and his cartridge belts ; Virido tramples the rebel's head, he lays his foot on the rebel's belly, he crows like a cock, shakes his bare hair, dives into the fight, brains, guns down, slaughters, his hand, his throat, his thighs covered with powder and blood, his lips foaming, his forehead blue with anger ; the ones he wounded, he pushes them with his fist ; a rebel aims at him, he leaps, turns round him, grabs his jaw and throws him against the rock, another tears his battledress, the tatters get trampled by the soldiers, Virido, legs bare, rushes at the rebel, kills him with a bullet in the belly and a dagger thrust in the throat, the rebel collapses, Virido squats down, pulls the rebel's battledress by the feet, tears it off from him ; then, hiding behind a spur, he slips on the battledress, tightens the waist, a rebel who saw him, rushes at the soldier, Virido raises his belt, whirls it, the rebel comes closer, the belt strikes him in the forehead, whips his face, blinds his eyes, Virido springs forward, the rebel, his hands before him, steps back, Virido whips his eyes, his lips, blood rises, spurts out, Virido waves his dagger, he thrusts it into the rebel's chest, the blade tears through the lung, the rebel collapses, his blood splashes the front of Virido's body, who, spitting, snuffling, chest raised by hiccups, sperm and piss gushing out of his taut cock, throws himself in the midst of combat ; Winnetou, Wildfrei, Dafni, are fighting step by step under an overhang ; B\'eja, shoulder torn by a tracer bullet fired from a blazing plane, runs in the gorge, assembles all his men, all come out from between the rocks, other planes take off from Inamenas on fire, the rebels surround the platoons, throw grenades, the soldiers jump, their limbs ripped off, bump into unscathed soldiers, knock them down on the shingle ; Virido, coming out of the smoke, attacks B\'eja in the rear, but B\'eja hears his footsteps on the shingle, he turns round, he fires off his sten gun in Virido's belly, the soldier screams and collapses on the shingle, breaks his teeth and nose against them ; B\'eja fires point-blank in the back and shoulders of the soldier, who jumps, blood spurts out of his lips, spatters the white and luminous stones ; Winnetou, driven back against the rock by three rebels coming forward, their knives open in their bloody hands, shouts, spits, his sten gun's magazine shines on the shingle, it's empty, Winnetou picks it up, he throws it at a rebel, then, pulling out his knife, taking his sten gun and placing it before his chest, he makes a rush upon the rebels whose weapons, jammed by dust and blood, jingle at their feet ; Winnetou flings himself upon the flaming knives, they pierce his thighs, his belly, burn his hands, Winnetou plunges his knife in the raised dust through which the shingle sparkles, blood burns on his throat, slides on his shoulder like a caress, his eyes grow moist, blood seeps from his cheeks, from his knees ; all around, the bodies bloody, charred, fume under the sun ; a song rises from the mouths crammed with pebbles ; the purple birds, the doves, escaped from the holes, from their nests under the roots, the larks, from their nests under the shingle shooting out, cry, over the fray, drawn, intoxicated by the smell of powder and blood.\par} Winnetou, his hands pierced, falls head against the shingle, he's still breathing, the battledress stuck to his back by blood, his head vibrates, sea flows into his mouth, violet vomit, nauseating flowers and leaves, exploded temples, gall, a low sun. -A rebel thrusts his knife between the soldier's shoulders, turns the blade in the hollow of the back ; Winnetou, his hands curl up, clutch the little stones, his rattle rolls under the rumbling of the shingle. B\'{e}ja pushes his men aside, he throws himself on Wildfrei, pierces him on the rock, he aims at Dafni who's escaping, the bullet tears through Dafni's stomach, blood spurts out of the wound, splashes his chest and his fair hair ; with his hands, he holds back his entrails, pink under the sun, flowing on his thighs ; Dafni, bending forward, escapes from the fight, he comes to sit on an overhang, his eyes mist over, his head rolls on his bloody chest ; at the end of the gorge, between the high walls, he sees the smoke that bloodshed is expelling from the capital, preceded by swarms of shining wasps. +A rebel thrusts his knife between the soldier's shoulders, turns the blade in the hollow of the back ; Winnetou, his hands curl up, clutch the little stones, his rattle rolls under the rumbling of the shingle. B\'eja pushes his men aside, he throws himself on Wildfrei, pierces him on the rock, he aims at Dafni who's escaping, the bullet tears through Dafni's stomach, blood spurts out of the wound, splashes his chest and his fair hair ; with his hands, he holds back his entrails, pink under the sun, flowing on his thighs ; Dafni, bending forward, escapes from the fight, he comes to sit on an overhang, his eyes mist over, his head rolls on his bloody chest ; at the end of the gorge, between the high walls, he sees the smoke that bloodshed is expelling from the capital, preceded by swarms of shining wasps. -He sees embers flash and burn out through that smoke, his lips open, blood spurts out in hiccups, wets, warms up the whole front of his battledress, slaps between the folds, under the cloth, under the belt ; his head, thrown forward by the hiccups, strikes his knees, the bloody flood streams across the stones, scored by the knives' blades ; B\'{e}ja catches up with Dafni, he takes his head, pulls it backward, the soldier groans. B\'{e}ja grabs the spattered hair, throws the head against the rock and kicks the wounded soldier in the stomach ; then, he bends down, he picks up a stone, he lays the soldier on the platform, he throws the stone in the open belly ; the stone slides in the wound, the soldier's head jumps on the rock ; his eyes open wide ; B\'{e}ja wipes his hands on the wall, he yells, he springs forwards ; already, Wildfrei, against the wall, is writhing ; the rebels turning back rush again at the other soldiers ; the planes in the torn, incandescent air, advance in jerks, like dragonflies. B\'{e}ja comes closer to Wildfrei, the soldier, his arms crucified on the wall, by the blood and the gun's report, rattles, his chest half- bared, B\'{e}ja waves his knife, he strokes with it Wildfrei's offered throat, then thrusts it up to the hilt ; the soldier's head rolls on his wrist ; B\'{e}ja shivers, his blood freezes, he leans against the wall, he breathes heavily, next to him, Wildfrei's body collapses on the shingle, the soldier's tongue protrudes from his mouth, under the thrust of slaughter ; the teeth chop it off, during the fall. +He sees embers flash and burn out through that smoke, his lips open, blood spurts out in hiccups, wets, warms up the whole front of his battledress, slaps between the folds, under the cloth, under the belt ; his head, thrown forward by the hiccups, strikes his knees, the bloody flood streams across the stones, scored by the knives' blades ; B\'eja catches up with Dafni, he takes his head, pulls it backward, the soldier groans. B\'eja grabs the spattered hair, throws the head against the rock and kicks the wounded soldier in the stomach ; then, he bends down, he picks up a stone, he lays the soldier on the platform, he throws the stone in the open belly ; the stone slides in the wound, the soldier's head jumps on the rock ; his eyes open wide ; B\'eja wipes his hands on the wall, he yells, he springs forwards ; already, Wildfrei, against the wall, is writhing ; the rebels turning back rush again at the other soldiers ; the planes in the torn, incandescent air, advance in jerks, like dragonflies. B\'eja comes closer to Wildfrei, the soldier, his arms crucified on the wall, by the blood and the gun's report, rattles, his chest half-bared, B\'eja waves his knife, he strokes with it Wildfrei's offered throat, then thrusts it up to the hilt ; the soldier's head rolls on his wrist ; B\'eja shivers, his blood freezes, he leans against the wall, he breathes heavily, next to him, Wildfrei's body collapses on the shingle, the soldier's tongue protrudes from his mouth, under the thrust of slaughter ; the teeth chop it off, during the fall. -B\'{e}ja turns away ; he looks up, sees the blue sky, free ; reverberation of blood and tears, and vibration of the planes, he wipes the sweat off his forehead with his bloodstained wrist. The soldiers, surrounded, are moving back ; one by one, they get slaughtered, on the rebels' shoes --- which they dispatch the soldiers with --- are stuck shreds of flesh and tufts of hair. +B\'eja turns away ; he looks up, sees the blue sky, free ; reverberation of blood and tears, and vibration of the planes, he wipes the sweat off his forehead with his bloodstained wrist. The soldiers, surrounded, are moving back ; one by one, they get slaughtered, on the rebels' shoes --- which they dispatch the soldiers with --- are stuck shreds of flesh and tufts of hair. The planes machine-gun the rebels hiding under the overhangs, their own machine-guns pointed at the sky from the chimneys in the wall. A squadron flies over Inamenas ; in the capital, soldiers, servants, city officials, throw pails on the small blazes ; the firemen water the ruins of the palaces : the governor, after coming out of his blazing room, runs on the terrace, his smashed arms dangling on his hips : Serge and Emilienne, burnt alive in their boat, in the harbour on fire, are rattling, under the smoke ; a smell of grilled fish floats on the smoky city ; riding the walls of palaces and barracks, soldiers, servants, children, priests charred in their flight ; poking them with long poles, rescuers topple them down, the raised ash falls back on the rescuers' faces ; in the harbour, ships are burning, flames run on the waves ; in the ruins of the warehouses, crates of food, sacks of wheat burst, under the high gates, the jets of water wash the charred bodies of beggars and children caught in their sleep, in their fever, by fire ; in the upper city the trees are burning ; cherry trees, their boughs bent over the orchards keeping their fruit undamaged and covered with dew, while the boughs bending over the street crumble in ashes on the asphalt. -B\'{e}ja jumps in his helicopter, he rushes to Inamenas where the rebels, swarming from the slums, attack the rescuers, against the palace walls ; B\'{e}ja, his three men bending in the cabin, flies over the river, the estuary, the aircraft lands on the shore ; B\'{e}ja and his three men, running on the sand, laugh, cry, tremble ; a flight of purple birds passes over their heads with a small noise of wings and cries. B\'{e}ja and his men follow the line of rubbish piles to the slums ; Kment is waiting for B\'{e}ja in front of the brothels ; B\'{e}ja enters with his three men, they kill all the clients in the common hall and in the rooms, throw the bodies out of the windows ; the recruiters flee through the garden, go down to the cellars, Kment, Draga, Petrilion lead B\'{e}ja to the hut, B\'{e}ja and his men open the hatch, they run through the storerooms, they see the recruiters hiding behind the pile of empty bottles, they pull them, brain them, they drag them out of the storerooms, B\'{e}ja, his foot slides, gets entangled in the tent canvas, he looks down, sees the fresh blood, the dried sperm, the dog's hair, the child's locks, he strikes the recruiter, sets his foot on his throat ; the recruiters are hoisted up in the garden, left in the custody of five rebels, young ones, escaped from the brothel before Petrilion arrived. +B\'eja jumps in his helicopter, he rushes to Inamenas where the rebels, swarming from the slums, attack the rescuers, against the palace walls ; B\'eja, his three men bending in the cabin, flies over the river, the estuary, the aircraft lands on the shore ; B\'eja and his three men, running on the sand, laugh, cry, tremble ; a flight of purple birds passes over their heads with a small noise of wings and cries. B\'eja and his men follow the line of rubbish piles to the slums ; Kment is waiting for B\'eja in front of the brothels ; B\'eja enters with his three men, they kill all the clients in the common hall and in the rooms, throw the bodies out of the windows ; the recruiters flee through the garden, go down to the cellars, Kment, Draga, Petrilion lead B\'eja to the hut, B\'eja and his men open the hatch, they run through the storerooms, they see the recruiters hiding behind the pile of empty bottles, they pull them, brain them, they drag them out of the storerooms, B\'eja, his foot slides, gets entangled in the tent canvas, he looks down, sees the fresh blood, the dried sperm, the dog's hair, the child's locks, he strikes the recruiter, sets his foot on his throat ; the recruiters are hoisted up in the garden, left in the custody of five rebels, young ones, escaped from the brothel before Petrilion arrived. -Giauhare leaning on Kment's shoulder, walks through the brothel, Draga appears, she looks down ; Draga bends over, kisses her on the nape. B\'{e}ja walks up to the upper city : the soldiers are rising in mutiny, pillage the archbishop's palace, kill the new black young man who locked himself up in the dormitory, with his little castrati. Ism\`{e}ne comes down the brothel staircase, she passes in front of Kment, naked, her body soiled with sperm, wine, spittle, Giauhare, buries her head in Kment's shoulder, then, all of a sudden, takes Ism\`{e}ne in her arms, kisses her cheeks, licks her forehead, her ears, her eyelids. B\'{e}ja meets groups of soldiers, arms loaded with ammunition crates ; in the small gardens, soldiers butcher hens, rabbits, snap flowers, stick them in their buttonhole ; B\'{e}ja enters the ruins of the government palace ; the governor walks among the ruins, he takes B\'{e}ja's arm~: +Giauhare leaning on Kment's shoulder, walks through the brothel, Draga appears, she looks down ; Draga bends over, kisses her on the nape. B\'eja walks up to the upper city : the soldiers are rising in mutiny, pillage the archbishop's palace, kill the new black young man who locked himself up in the dormitory, with his little castrati. Ism\`{e}ne comes down the brothel staircase, she passes in front of Kment, naked, her body soiled with sperm, wine, spittle, Giauhare, buries her head in Kment's shoulder, then, all of a sudden, takes Ism\`{e}ne in her arms, kisses her cheeks, licks her forehead, her ears, her eyelids. B\'eja meets groups of soldiers, arms loaded with ammunition crates ; in the small gardens, soldiers butcher hens, rabbits, snap flowers, stick them in their buttonhole ; B\'eja enters the ruins of the government palace ; the governor walks among the ruins, he takes B\'eja's arm~: --- I know you, here is the palace I've been wishing to give you back, out of justice, ever since I came. Take it. -He goes away. He crosses the blackened courtyard, passes under the portal's arch, and disappears in the smoke. B\'{e}ja walks up the steps cluttered with charred furniture, slashed bodies, his hand slips, trembles on the marble balustrade ; upstairs, he gazes out of the window, columns of smoke are moving up towards the mountains ; the Pier, the Admiralty are still burning in full noon. B\'{e}ja climbs the palace facade, tears off the Ecbatane flag, hands to the staff some torn and soiled underpants he found in the brothel ; then he goes down again, the mutinous soldiers come to him, lead him to the engine sheds, the armouries, the ammunition storerooms, the rebels rejoin B\'{e}ja ; in the gorge, under the hail of bullets, rebels leap from one overhang to another, the tracer bullets tear off the tufts of grass, smash the stones ; a bullet pierces the feet of a leaping rebel, he falls, face on the ground, another bullet pierces his nape ; the back, the shouiders, the loins jump ; the planes warned of B\'{e}ja's victory, come closer down ; half of the squadron dives towards Inamenas ; the other half flies over the gorge, hunts down the rebels trapped down there. The planes skirt round Inamenas, try to land at the airport, but it is in the hands of the rebels and the mutinous soldiers : officers, petty officers, soldiers remained faithful are double-locked in the hangars ; on the ground, the rebels put up the machine-guns, fire, some planes are shot down, they fall in the marshes bordering the runway ; the grass catches fire, a petrol tank blazes up with a muffled noise ; the intact planes fly up high in the sky, they assemble, decide by radio to cross the sea. +He goes away. He crosses the blackened courtyard, passes under the portal's arch, and disappears in the smoke. B\'eja walks up the steps cluttered with charred furniture, slashed bodies, his hand slips, trembles on the marble balustrade ; upstairs, he gazes out of the window, columns of smoke are moving up towards the mountains ; the Pier, the Admiralty are still burning in full noon. B\'eja climbs the palace facade, tears off the Ecbatane flag, hands to the staff some torn and soiled underpants he found in the brothel ; then he goes down again, the mutinous soldiers come to him, lead him to the engine sheds, the armouries, the ammunition storerooms, the rebels rejoin B\'eja ; in the gorge, under the hail of bullets, rebels leap from one overhang to another, the tracer bullets tear off the tufts of grass, smash the stones ; a bullet pierces the feet of a leaping rebel, he falls, face on the ground, another bullet pierces his nape ; the back, the shoulders, the loins jump ; the planes warned of B\'eja's victory, come closer down ; half of the squadron dives towards Inamenas ; the other half flies over the gorge, hunts down the rebels trapped down there. The planes skirt round Inamenas, try to land at the airport, but it is in the hands of the rebels and the mutinous soldiers : officers, petty officers, soldiers remained faithful are double-locked in the hangars ; on the ground, the rebels put up the machine-guns, fire, some planes are shot down, they fall in the marshes bordering the runway ; the grass catches fire, a petrol tank blazes up with a muffled noise ; the intact planes fly up high in the sky, they assemble, decide by radio to cross the sea. --- Let's flee to Ecbatane and come back here in full force. @@ -5635,7 +5640,7 @@ Three planes break away from the group, they dive towards the airport, machine-g On the ground, the rebels embrace each other, shout, bite each other's arms ; soldiers bring basketfuls of brioches pillaged at the mess. The rebels invade the city, they slaughter the liberal politicians in their jails : those politicians, arms raised, groan, protest their revolutionary conviction, throw themselves in the rebels' arms to kiss them. -But B\'{e}ja has ordered the slaughter of all settlers, with the exception of the governor who is to commit suicide. B\'{e}ja, Illiten having been killed for being too mild, intends to govern only a miserable people ; he's only interested in the crowd. He will order the destruction of all towns of Inamenas, will tear away the children from their mothers, abolish the principles of family, affection and property. His rabble, with children's brows, he'll throw them upon the barricades in Titov Veles. +But B\'eja has ordered the slaughter of all settlers, with the exception of the governor who is to commit suicide. B\'eja, Illiten having been killed for being too mild, intends to govern only a miserable people ; he's only interested in the crowd. He will order the destruction of all towns of Inamenas, will tear away the children from their mothers, abolish the principles of family, affection and property. His rabble, with children's brows, he'll throw them upon the barricades in Titov Veles. He sits down in the governor's office ; with his hand he wipes the ashes off the table, he flings his foot on the table, two rebels, standing at the door, rifle in hand, rise on their heels, look through the landing window. @@ -5649,19 +5654,19 @@ Saint-Gall orders a withdrawal under the central wing, he takes the girls by the --- Pierzinski, take command. I'll be back before dawn. -Saint-Gall, at nightfall slips out of the luxury hotel, he runs towards the sea ; the top of the beach is littered with mating bodies, their arms and legs, smeared with sperm and blood sparkle under the moon ; in the middle of the night he rushes into the villa's garden ; in the hall, his foot slides in a poo! of blood, he climbs the marble staircase ; a shadow runs across the first landing, Saint-Gall fires, the shadow collapses, Saint-Gall moves forward, his foot strikes a small quivering body, he bends down, a trickle of blood runs on his foot, he turns the head over, then the whole body, that of a child clutching in his hand a silver candlestick, Saint- Gall strikes him in the head with his pistol butt, pushes the body rolling down the stairs ; he rushes into the vestibule, he pushes the door of the first room, he enters, the switch has been ripped off, Saint-Gall gets closer to the bed, draws the curtains aside : his father's sister, whom the Inamenas youths call the Relative, is lying on the ravaged bed, her hand caught in the canopy's ropes ; Saint-Gall pulls that hand, the body falls back on the bloodstained sheets, Saint-Gall lifts the dress, the uncovered cunt is bruised, scored with nail and teeth marks. Saint-Gall moves to the window : down below, the deserted harbour shines under the moon, the small waves shake the chain links on the pier : rich and idle, the Relative had a harbour built, and warehouses, docks, a whole town around them, terraced on the hills along the coast ; but her intendants, her slaves, had in vain scoured the villages, the deserts of the island ; in vain, she herself had written to merchants and shipowners in the island and abroad asking their boats to put into her port ; only one family, dragged from the Guildo desert, under Thilissi, accepted to come and live in Ryswick. They were installed in the town's most beautiful house, every morning slaves brought them fruit, cooked dishes, wines, children came to play with the Relative's dogs, monkeys and birds. Then one morning, the family, overwhelmed by boredom, disappeared. The Relative shut herself up forever behind the high walls of her villa ; the Inamenas mayor --- five years before the rebellion's beginning --- having, one winter day, sent her two young flute players, she listened to them then, immediately after, had their legs smashed, to take revenge for the capital and the radiance of its harbour. She had nevertheless become fond of her nephew Saint-Gall, often inviting him to Ryswick, enjoyed his presence during the day, and would send him back in the evening to Inamenas, all swollen with caresses and sugar ; one evening, she noticed he was becoming a young man, fire rose to her cheeks, she kept the child for dinner and during the night, deflowered him. The boy did not come back but he would send short letters, drawings, poems, little clay statues. +Saint-Gall, at nightfall slips out of the luxury hotel, he runs towards the sea ; the top of the beach is littered with mating bodies, their arms and legs, smeared with sperm and blood sparkle under the moon ; in the middle of the night he rushes into the villa's garden ; in the hall, his foot slides in a pool of blood, he climbs the marble staircase ; a shadow runs across the first landing, Saint-Gall fires, the shadow collapses, Saint-Gall moves forward, his foot strikes a small quivering body, he bends down, a trickle of blood runs on his foot, he turns the head over, then the whole body, that of a child clutching in his hand a silver candlestick, Saint-Gall strikes him in the head with his pistol butt, pushes the body rolling down the stairs ; he rushes into the vestibule, he pushes the door of the first room, he enters, the switch has been ripped off, Saint-Gall gets closer to the bed, draws the curtains aside : his father's sister, whom the Inamenas youths call the Relative, is lying on the ravaged bed, her hand caught in the canopy's ropes ; Saint-Gall pulls that hand, the body falls back on the bloodstained sheets, Saint-Gall lifts the dress, the uncovered cunt is bruised, scored with nail and teeth marks. Saint-Gall moves to the window : down below, the deserted harbour shines under the moon, the small waves shake the chain links on the pier : rich and idle, the Relative had a harbour built, and warehouses, docks, a whole town around them, terraced on the hills along the coast ; but her intendants, her slaves, had in vain scoured the villages, the deserts of the island ; in vain, she herself had written to merchants and shipowners in the island and abroad asking their boats to put into her port ; only one family, dragged from the Guildo desert, under Thilissi, accepted to come and live in Ryswick. They were installed in the town's most beautiful house, every morning slaves brought them fruit, cooked dishes, wines, children came to play with the Relative's dogs, monkeys and birds. Then one morning, the family, overwhelmed by boredom, disappeared. The Relative shut herself up forever behind the high walls of her villa ; the Inamenas mayor --- five years before the rebellion's beginning --- having, one winter day, sent her two young flute players, she listened to them then, immediately after, had their legs smashed, to take revenge for the capital and the radiance of its harbour. She had nevertheless become fond of her nephew Saint-Gall, often inviting him to Ryswick, enjoyed his presence during the day, and would send him back in the evening to Inamenas, all swollen with caresses and sugar ; one evening, she noticed he was becoming a young man, fire rose to her cheeks, she kept the child for dinner and during the night, deflowered him. The boy did not come back but he would send short letters, drawings, poems, little clay statues. -Saint-Gall sits down before the desk, with its flap shining in the moonlight, he opens the drawers, he unrolls a paper tied with a gilded thread, reads to the bottom of the page, gets up, places the sheet in a beam of light, leans his elbow to the window ledge : \gl \ldots\ to my slaves, the whip. To my nephew, as a salary for his virginity that I took from him against his will, the orangeries I own in Loutrakion, so that his sweaty and quivering body wander there amidst their fragrance\ldots\ to my intendants, they'll mention themselves in the will\ldots\gr +Saint-Gall sits down before the desk, with its flap shining in the moonlight, he opens the drawers, he unrolls a paper tied with a gilded thread, reads to the bottom of the page, gets up, places the sheet in a beam of light, leans his elbow to the window ledge : \speech{\ldots\ to my slaves, the whip. To my nephew, as a salary for his virginity that I took from him against his will, the orangeries I own in Loutrakion, so that his sweaty and quivering body wander there amidst their fragrance\ldots\ to my intendants, they'll mention themselves in the will\ldots} -Saint-Gall folds the paper, ne thrusts it in his pocket, he leaves the room ; in the stairs, the body, which he forgot, makes him fall, his chin hits the marble step, his broken teeth, he spits them out with the blood, he goes down into the gardens, he strokes the top of the boxtrees, bends over a large flower : \said{a lily} and drinks the dew from the shivering petals. At dawn, he runs, between the hotel's brambles, he goes up into the central wing ; all the boys and all the girls lie with their throat slit open, on the spot where they fought ; Saint-Gall chokes, he walks on tiptoe between the toppled bodies, kneeling, their face turned towards dawn and moist with dew, on their foreheads, on their intact clothes mixed with blood. Saint-Gall does not dare touch these motionless heads, these eyelids open on eyes still fresh, these livid lips, their hair alone touched and twisted by the hand of the slaughterers ; Saint-Gall goes down again, gets on his motorbike, returns to Inamenas, the motorbike moves forward over heaps of naked and torn bodies ; the dogs, which are lifting them, growl, leap at Saint-Gall's bare legs, his shoulders are frozen, blood sticks his nipples to his shirt soaked with dew and sweat ; monkeys, come down from the mountain, as in the time of epidemics, wander in groups through the alleys, hair wet and gilded by dawn ; on their hands, ribbons, tufts of woman's hair, they move aside before the motorbike, hold out their arms, their claws brush Saint-Gall's shoulders ; they shake their head, the sun pounces on Saint-Gall, the saddle and the petrol tank burn his thighs and his cock crushed under the light shorts ; Saint-Gall stops his motorbike, strokes the heads of the cooing monkeys, then, he throws his bike forward, the wheel squashes the paw of one monkey, who raises his fist, takes its paws in its hands, parts the fingers, rubs the phalanx, lays the paw on the ground again, shouts, waves its hands against its cheeks, takes its paw again, sits down back to the wall, licks the underside of its paw ; Saint-Gall stops the motorbike in front of the house ; in the garden, the flowers, the shrubs are burnt ; on the entrance steps, his father's naked body, throat slit open, head folded under the shoulders, legs caught in the balustrade's rose trees, penis curled up on the lower abdomen ; Saint-Gall lets go of the motorbike, he bends over, he lifts the shoulders, takes the head, drags the corpse to the top of the steps, lays the head in the ravaged livingroom, on the flap of a desk, he lies down on the white bear fur, rolls on the side, falls asleep. +Saint-Gall folds the paper, he thrusts it in his pocket, he leaves the room ; in the stairs, the body, which he forgot, makes him fall, his chin hits the marble step, his broken teeth, he spits them out with the blood, he goes down into the gardens, he strokes the top of the boxtrees, bends over a large flower : \speech{a lily} and drinks the dew from the shivering petals. At dawn, he runs, between the hotel's brambles, he goes up into the central wing ; all the boys and all the girls lie with their throat slit open, on the spot where they fought ; Saint-Gall chokes, he walks on tiptoe between the toppled bodies, kneeling, their face turned towards dawn and moist with dew, on their foreheads, on their intact clothes mixed with blood. Saint-Gall does not dare touch these motionless heads, these eyelids open on eyes still fresh, these livid lips, their hair alone touched and twisted by the hand of the slaughterers ; Saint-Gall goes down again, gets on his motorbike, returns to Inamenas, the motorbike moves forward over heaps of naked and torn bodies ; the dogs, which are lifting them, growl, leap at Saint-Gall's bare legs, his shoulders are frozen, blood sticks his nipples to his shirt soaked with dew and sweat ; monkeys, come down from the mountain, as in the time of epidemics, wander in groups through the alleys, hair wet and gilded by dawn ; on their hands, ribbons, tufts of woman's hair, they move aside before the motorbike, hold out their arms, their claws brush Saint-Gall's shoulders ; they shake their head, the sun pounces on Saint-Gall, the saddle and the petrol tank burn his thighs and his cock crushed under the light shorts ; Saint-Gall stops his motorbike, strokes the heads of the cooing monkeys, then, he throws his bike forward, the wheel squashes the paw of one monkey, who raises his fist, takes its paws in its hands, parts the fingers, rubs the phalanx, lays the paw on the ground again, shouts, waves its hands against its cheeks, takes its paw again, sits down back to the wall, licks the underside of its paw ; Saint-Gall stops the motorbike in front of the house ; in the garden, the flowers, the shrubs are burnt ; on the entrance steps, his father's naked body, throat slit open, head folded under the shoulders, legs caught in the balustrade's rose trees, penis curled up on the lower abdomen ; Saint-Gall lets go of the motorbike, he bends over, he lifts the shoulders, takes the head, drags the corpse to the top of the steps, lays the head in the ravaged livingroom, on the flap of a desk, he lies down on the white bear fur, rolls on the side, falls asleep. -B\'{e}ja, lying on Serge's bed, guarded by ten rebels, awakens, he gets up, removes his clothes, takes a shower, shaves with Serge's razor, combs himself with his comb ; he goes round the room, his hand on the window ledge, strokes the Virginian creeper ; on the bookcase, topples all the books, all the records, the record player is on, B\'{e}ja moves the pickup arm, twists it, pulls it off, throws it under his shoe and crushes it. Then, he gets down into the garden, goes and sits on a marble bench looking down upon the city and the harbour, his guards follow him. He sees the streets, the deserted avenues, opened on the sea, a few children only are bathing in the blue water then, with their swimming trunks wet, squat down on the rocks under the jetty, pull out crabs, hold each other's hand, in the crevices. +B\'eja, lying on Serge's bed, guarded by ten rebels, awakens, he gets up, removes his clothes, takes a shower, shaves with Serge's razor, combs himself with his comb ; he goes round the room, his hand on the window ledge, strokes the Virginian creeper ; on the bookcase, topples all the books, all the records, the record player is on, B\'eja moves the pickup arm, twists it, pulls it off, throws it under his shoe and crushes it. Then, he gets down into the garden, goes and sits on a marble bench looking down upon the city and the harbour, his guards follow him. He sees the streets, the deserted avenues, opened on the sea, a few children only are bathing in the blue water then, with their swimming trunks wet, squat down on the rocks under the jetty, pull out crabs, hold each other's hand, in the crevices. -B\'{e}ja looks round, his gaze falls on the slums ; the alleys flooded with sun and dew, fill with shadows of monkeys and men ; but, not a single voice among that tumult of footsteps, leaps, matings ; a rebel bends over B\'{e}ja~: +B\'eja looks round, his gaze falls on the slums ; the alleys flooded with sun and dew, fill with shadows of monkeys and men ; but, not a single voice among that tumult of footsteps, leaps, matings ; a rebel bends over B\'eja~: --- A scholar says that tonight he saw the waters rise on the Lannilis island, opposite the harbour, and the earth shook under El\"{o}. -B\'{e}ja brushes the rebel aside. +B\'eja brushes the rebel aside. In the gorge, the rebels, little by little, extricate themselves, they've shot ten planes down ; the gorge becoming impassable because of the congestion of the carcasses and the dead bodies, the rebels rush out, the planes nosedive, three rebels fall, dead, twenty throw themselves, safe and sound into Thilissi village ; they capture women, children, push them before themselves as shields as far as the post entrance ; the soldiers don't dare fire ; the rebels, still pushing their hostages before them, rush into the post courtyard ; the soldiers were waiting for reinforcements and orders from Titov Veles ; they take refuge, barricade themselves in the attic ; the rebels set fire everywhere ; Pino gets up in the latrine, he fastens his belt, he goes out, he runs to the kitchen ; he sees two rebels throw blazing papers in the latrine, he grabs the butchery knives, on the table ; the assistants, locked up in the attic, burn with the soldiers, he hides behind the pile of pots, clutching his knives in his hands ; the rebels saw him, one of them sets a newspaper ablaze, the other snatches it from him, they advance towards the kitchen ; rats run on the manure, the high altitude weakens them, they can't dig holes, the rebels kill the rats, wave them on the point of their daggers~: @@ -5673,7 +5678,7 @@ Outside, the soldiers, caught by the fire, jump from the attic windows ; down be The rebels, teeth gripping bloody bones, hardly roasted, wipe their hands on that head, laugh, belch, lips brushing the hair pulled out in tufts, then, the rebel throws the head in the air, all push it with their foot, out into the courtyard where they play with it, in the blood and ashes, with shouts and hoarse laughter ; the women and children they pushed before them as shields, escape, but bullets knock them down against the barrier ; a child, head caught in the lever, screams ; a rebel comes, raises the barrier, the crushed head, makes a grinding sound ; the child's legs give a start, fall back on the ground, livid, muscles tensed ; the rebel lets go of the barrier, the child, his head released, slides along the lever to the ground, where he quivers then relaxes, stiffens : the rebel comes forward, bends over, touches the child's knee, a woman crawls, one hand pressed on the earth, the other covering her forehead, she lets herself roll, beyond the barrier towards the path leading to the village, the rebel throws himself on her, he steps on the woman's dress, he wrings it, he knocks the head over his thigh, he squats down and unbuttoning himself, and tucking up the woman's dress, in the same time he's raping her, he thrusts his dagger in her throat ; another woman flung herself on the child, she covers him with her entire body, licks, nibbles the crushed head, presses it against her mouth, bathes it with her tears and her saliva ; a rebel grabs her by the shoulder, he knocks her down under the barrier, he squats down, the woman gets up again, pushes back the rebel's rifle, and his hands tucking up her dress ; the rebel leans the rifle barrel against the woman's leg, he fires, the bullet smashes the knee, blood gushes out, splashes the rebel's chest ; the woman writhes, the rebel paws the woman's belly, carves it, tears away the lower abdomen, takes out the baby wrapped in the entrails ; he tears the entrails, which wind around his wrist, he spits, he throws his wrist, the entrails whip the dust, the rebel plunges both his hands, assembles the baby's still supple limbs, lifts them up in both his hands, the woman moans, her feet rub the dust, her fingers gently claw the rebel's arms. He lays the baby on the mother's half-exposed breasts, opens her mouth with both his hands, the baby slides in the dust, the rebel, with one hand grabs the head, which he pushes into the mother's open mouth, then, he gets up, he tramples the little body which the mother swallows, he tramples the woman's gluey mouth ; the other rebels are wolfing the roasted meat. -A few houses they set fire to at the bottom of the village burn, crumble at the border of the fields ; the villagers flee to the forests, the rebels scatter in the houses, set fire to the workshops, huddle in the women's dresses, topple over the oil jars, smash the looms, wind the threads around their heads, bite the fruit, throw it away, barely tasted, in the blazes, tear the meat and the bread in the pantries, lie down on the straw mattresses, get up again, burst them with the point of their knives. The reinforcements from Titov Veles are assembled on the square, Nik\'{e} slips between the trucks, holds out her arms to the soldiers who pull at them, the girl climbs on the tyre, the soldiers stroke her hair, her shoulders, her breasts ; the soldiers from the other truck grab her waist by the back of the shorts and draw her towards them, she struggles ; a soldier comes down from the truck, plunges his head under the girl's arched buttocks, sinks his head between the thighs, kisses the exposed navel, he pulls the girl away, carries her on his shoulders, to the other truck, the girl holding his hair and licking his cock crushed against her chin, the girl's legs crossed in the soldier's back ; she feels the soldier's laugh and his tongue tremble against her cunt, his saliva moistens the shorts ; the soldier carries her behind the truck, he knocks her down under him, in the dust, he fucks her on the burning pavement, she cries under the shock, she drinks the tears, his lips run on the girl's chest, nibble the unbuttoned blouse, entirely folded back, crumpled under the armpits ; on the breasts that he takes in his mouth, and sucks with a persistent blink ; the girl's hair, unfastened, rolls in the dust~: +A few houses they set fire to at the bottom of the village burn, crumble at the border of the fields ; the villagers flee to the forests, the rebels scatter in the houses, set fire to the workshops, huddle in the women's dresses, topple over the oil jars, smash the looms, wind the threads around their heads, bite the fruit, throw it away, barely tasted, in the blazes, tear the meat and the bread in the pantries, lie down on the straw mattresses, get up again, burst them with the point of their knives. The reinforcements from Titov Veles are assembled on the square, Nik\'e slips between the trucks, holds out her arms to the soldiers who pull at them, the girl climbs on the tyre, the soldiers stroke her hair, her shoulders, her breasts ; the soldiers from the other truck grab her waist by the back of the shorts and draw her towards them, she struggles ; a soldier comes down from the truck, plunges his head under the girl's arched buttocks, sinks his head between the thighs, kisses the exposed navel, he pulls the girl away, carries her on his shoulders, to the other truck, the girl holding his hair and licking his cock crushed against her chin, the girl's legs crossed in the soldier's back ; she feels the soldier's laugh and his tongue tremble against her cunt, his saliva moistens the shorts ; the soldier carries her behind the truck, he knocks her down under him, in the dust, he fucks her on the burning pavement, she cries under the shock, she drinks the tears, his lips run on the girl's chest, nibble the unbuttoned blouse, entirely folded back, crumpled under the armpits ; on the breasts that he takes in his mouth, and sucks with a persistent blink ; the girl's hair, unfastened, rolls in the dust~: --- You hurt me, my baby. @@ -5687,7 +5692,7 @@ When Aurelio makes love to me, at dawn, under the sheet, the photo gets crumpled --- Use your little broom to shut the window. -He would get up, rush on you, drag you out of bed, his tall naked body quivering in the milky light, squeeze your dishevelled head between his thighs, against his cock, your mouth crushed against the black locks of his cock ; silence, collisions of wet chests, lark under kite ; gets up, his cock asleep, bushy between his thighs, fat and hairy spider, rushes on you, drags you out of bed, the floor's splinters entering the flesh of your knees, strikes your little naked body, so thin~: +He would get up, rush on you, drag you out of bed, his tall naked body quivering in the milky light, squeeze your disheveled head between his thighs, against his cock, your mouth crushed against the black locks of his cock ; silence, collisions of wet chests, lark under kite ; gets up, his cock asleep, bushy between his thighs, fat and hairy spider, rushes on you, drags you out of bed, the floor's splinters entering the flesh of your knees, strikes your little naked body, so thin~: --- Leave him alone now, I've got another idea, I'm going to feed him, fatten him, Aurelio, do you slightly fancy his little body~? @@ -5699,13 +5704,13 @@ He embraces you, he presses you against him, he pulls at your cock, he tucks it His thighs rub your buttocks, he withdraws his cock from your asshole, widened, bruised ; he kicks you over on your bed, then he comes back to mine, bends over and thrusts between my worried lips his cock still hot, where I recognize your baby smell ; you writhe on your bed, groaning, your fist between your buttocks, closing them over your inflamed asshole\ldots -Awake, sweat sticks my body against the leather, they drink champagne, they caress Ainu girls, they pull them into cabins with mahogany doors, they scream, blood runs under the door ; he pours champagne on my chest, they throw each other the shreds of my shorts and my shirt : a guard comes out of a cabin, his battledress smeared with blood, and sperm, on the thighs, the Ainu girl trembles on the sofa, under the neon light ; naked, the guard's cap on her shaven head. The boot of a guard sprawled in the armchair crushes my cock on my thigh : a priest passes by on the balcony, recites his breviary in a low voice, the sky's blood reddens his wrist ; dawn ices my naked body, the priest, seeing me, raises his cassock, and, roaring with laughter, shakes his long and thin cock ; the smell pricks my nostrils ; in the harbour, ships bringing wheat and sugar are machine- gunned by the guards, they blaze up, they flame in the veiled daylight, the smell of grilled wheat and melted sugar rises as far as the balcony ; a black hand grabs the priest's breviary, draws the priest over the balcony, the priest crashes to the wet parvis in front of the basilica, his tucked-up cassock exposing livid thighs, scored with flagellations. +Awake, sweat sticks my body against the leather, they drink champagne, they caress Ainu girls, they pull them into cabins with mahogany doors, they scream, blood runs under the door ; he pours champagne on my chest, they throw each other the shreds of my shorts and my shirt : a guard comes out of a cabin, his battledress smeared with blood, and sperm, on the thighs, the Ainu girl trembles on the sofa, under the neon light ; naked, the guard's cap on her shaven head. The boot of a guard sprawled in the armchair crushes my cock on my thigh : a priest passes by on the balcony, recites his breviary in a low voice, the sky's blood reddens his wrist ; dawn ices my naked body, the priest, seeing me, raises his cassock, and, roaring with laughter, shakes his long and thin cock ; the smell pricks my nostrils ; in the harbour, ships bringing wheat and sugar are machine-gunned by the guards, they blaze up, they flame in the veiled daylight, the smell of grilled wheat and melted sugar rises as far as the balcony ; a black hand grabs the priest's breviary, draws the priest over the balcony, the priest crashes to the wet parvis in front of the basilica, his tucked-up cassock exposing livid thighs, scored with flagellations. I get up again, my head hits the edge of the violet marble chimney ; in the fire a priest's head is burning ; on the tonsure, runs the roasted flesh ; the moths are stuck to the window in the grey light of dawn ; a guard gets up, he walks to the window, he strokes the pane. --- So begins the new world. A bit more time and you will see the water and the light. -An eagle with golden wings, brushes the pane ; in the distance, on the basilica, a golden bell tolls ; the eagle clings to the pane, the wet belly feathers leaning against the pane at the spot where the guard laid his hand. The door is open, I go down the stairs, I am naked ; outside, those who are digging the snow do not see that I am naked, I run ; Aurelio and my mother, all mixed together ; my hand in the grey water of dawn ; I take the milkpan, I drink the icy milk ; the needle vibrates in my hand, I move towards the bed, I raise my hand, the needie flashes, I thrust it into Aurelio's back, it pierces his heart, sinks into my mother's bosom, pierces her heart and nails both of them to the sheet ; the needle's bail makes a little shiny stain in Aurelio's back ; I have no blood on my hand ; I take my father's photo from the wall, I press it against my chest ; the icy milk runs in my chest\ldots +An eagle with golden wings, brushes the pane ; in the distance, on the basilica, a golden bell tolls ; the eagle clings to the pane, the wet belly feathers leaning against the pane at the spot where the guard laid his hand. The door is open, I go down the stairs, I am naked ; outside, those who are digging the snow do not see that I am naked, I run ; Aurelio and my mother, all mixed together ; my hand in the grey water of dawn ; I take the milkpan, I drink the icy milk ; the needle vibrates in my hand, I move towards the bed, I raise my hand, the needle flashes, I thrust it into Aurelio's back, it pierces his heart, sinks into my mother's bosom, pierces her heart and nails both of them to the sheet ; the needle's bail makes a little shiny stain in Aurelio's back ; I have no blood on my hand ; I take my father's photo from the wall, I press it against my chest ; the icy milk runs in my chest\ldots The girl lifts up Ash's body. A soldier, coming down from the truck, approaches the girl, the cigarette falls in the open tank ; the fire catches like a wave in a crack in the rocks ; the trucks explode ; rifles, soldiers shoot out in the golden air, bloody stumps fall back in the dust, rifles burst high in the smoke ; Titov Veles is in flames : the slaves let themselves be caught and swallowed by fire ; the youths, locked up in the gymnasiums, scream, the glass roofs collapse ; smoke chokes the priests in the temples ; fire catches in the mating sentry boxes, runs up to the slaves' rock, blackens the sacred stone. @@ -5731,19 +5736,19 @@ He gets up, he catches an eaglet, he wrings its neck, he finds another one in th --- It was blood, fire. Pour some water, water, I'm dying. -Smoke comes up from Titov Veles ; the boy carries the young girl in his arms, he lays her in the helicopter ; smoke flattens and veils the grass like mist, the helicopter flies off, dives towards the sea. Saint-Gall, crouching in the smoky forest, his ass bare, next to a spring, chokes, he gets up again, takes his turds in both hands, smears his face, his body, his clothes, throws himself in the spring, pistol against the temple ; at the moment the face touches the water, the pistol fires, blood gushes out, reddens the sparkling water under the smoke, the head rolls on the copper-coloured stones ; the deers, the boars, the monkeys, the eagles chased by the fire, pass crying, above the drowned body ; the crayfish draw back under the armpits ; beyond the clearing, on the slope towards the sea, fire catches the eagles in their flight, hurls them hissing against the ground, chases the monkeys and the deers between the brooms in the granitic chaos, catches their legs and flattens them, nostrils in the ember ; the whole mountain is burning, the stones explode, the plane carcasses, in the gorge, lifted up by the blast of the fire, hit the walls and the overhangs. Fire moves up to El\"{o} where the rebels, drunk, slaughter the boys from the Little Convict Prison ; some have recognized Audry, the son of the police chief, murdered by them in the Spring ; they hunt him through the ransacked school, the boy leaps over the slaughtered bodies, he locks himself up in the hen house, the rebels climb up the metal grating ; they throw him knives taken from the refectory ; Audry huddles in a rabbit cage, his heart throbs against their quivering fur, he lies down at the bottom of the cage, he draws the rabbits over his body, the rebels pull off the door, they lift the cage up, they empty it, the rabbits slide, escape between the rebels' legs ; Audry remains clinging to the bottom of the cage, the rebels pull him by the feet, they drag him on the earth soiled with shit ; one rebel grabs a cock by the neck, the other rebels maintain Audry with his legs and arms spread out ; the rebel brings the cock's head near to Audry's neck, the cock struggles, its wings beat the rebel's wrist and Audry's face ; the rebel thrusts the cock's beak in Audry's throat ; blood gushes out, blinds the cock ; above, in the smoky air, the eagles and the seagulls cry ; the cock cries, its bloody beak digs into the wound ; Audry, arms stretched out sideways, rattles ; the foam from his lips runs on the rebel's shoe, an eagle dives, hooks its claws on the rebel's head, sinks them into the sweating forehead, its wings beat ; the rebel collapses ; the cock escapes ; the eagle leaps, settles on Audry's dead body, covers his face and the wound with its wings, head raised ; the rebels step aside, run away ; everywhere in the Little Prison buildings, disfigured corpses, boiled in the wash-house copper, mutilated, cut to pieces on the butchery stall, raped on the black earth of the cellar, broken bottles sticking out between the buttocks, bare and scored with floggings, eyes gouged out, hands nailed to the desks by knives and pens dipped in ink, decapitated bodies on the stake's block, bloody hatchets thrown in the dust of wood shavings ; charred bodies half-buried in the central heating boilers ; patients scalded in their beds, dying nurses, their mouth inflamed by vitriol, children nailed to the crucifix of both chapels, priests buried, choked inside the harmoniums, teeth smashed by the ciborium, genitals squeezed inside the cruets ; mouths crammed with grains of burning incense, eyes pierced and gouged out with scouts' rosaries. +Smoke comes up from Titov Veles ; the boy carries the young girl in his arms, he lays her in the helicopter ; smoke flattens and veils the grass like mist, the helicopter flies off, dives towards the sea. Saint-Gall, crouching in the smoky forest, his ass bare, next to a spring, chokes, he gets up again, takes his turds in both hands, smears his face, his body, his clothes, throws himself in the spring, pistol against the temple ; at the moment the face touches the water, the pistol fires, blood gushes out, reddens the sparkling water under the smoke, the head rolls on the copper-coloured stones ; the deer, the boars, the monkeys, the eagles chased by the fire, pass crying, above the drowned body ; the crayfish draw back under the armpits ; beyond the clearing, on the slope towards the sea, fire catches the eagles in their flight, hurls them hissing against the ground, chases the monkeys and the deer between the brooms in the granitic chaos, catches their legs and flattens them, nostrils in the ember ; the whole mountain is burning, the stones explode, the plane carcasses, in the gorge, lifted up by the blast of the fire, hit the walls and the overhangs. Fire moves up to El\"{o} where the rebels, drunk, slaughter the boys from the Little Convict Prison ; some have recognized Audry, the son of the police chief, murdered by them in the Spring ; they hunt him through the ransacked school, the boy leaps over the slaughtered bodies, he locks himself up in the hen house, the rebels climb up the metal grating ; they throw him knives taken from the refectory ; Audry huddles in a rabbit cage, his heart throbs against their quivering fur, he lies down at the bottom of the cage, he draws the rabbits over his body, the rebels pull off the door, they lift the cage up, they empty it, the rabbits slide, escape between the rebels' legs ; Audry remains clinging to the bottom of the cage, the rebels pull him by the feet, they drag him on the earth soiled with shit ; one rebel grabs a cock by the neck, the other rebels maintain Audry with his legs and arms spread out ; the rebel brings the cock's head near to Audry's neck, the cock struggles, its wings beat the rebel's wrist and Audry's face ; the rebel thrusts the cock's beak in Audry's throat ; blood gushes out, blinds the cock ; above, in the smoky air, the eagles and the seagulls cry ; the cock cries, its bloody beak digs into the wound ; Audry, arms stretched out sideways, rattles ; the foam from his lips runs on the rebel's shoe, an eagle dives, hooks its claws on the rebel's head, sinks them into the sweating forehead, its wings beat ; the rebel collapses ; the cock escapes ; the eagle leaps, settles on Audry's dead body, covers his face and the wound with its wings, head raised ; the rebels step aside, run away ; everywhere in the Little Prison buildings, disfigured corpses, boiled in the wash-house copper, mutilated, cut to pieces on the butchery stall, raped on the black earth of the cellar, broken bottles sticking out between the buttocks, bare and scored with floggings, eyes gouged out, hands nailed to the desks by knives and pens dipped in ink, decapitated bodies on the stake's block, bloody hatchets thrown in the dust of wood shavings ; charred bodies half-buried in the central heating boilers ; patients scalded in their beds, dying nurses, their mouth inflamed by vitriol, children nailed to the crucifix of both chapels, priests buried, choked inside the harmoniums, teeth smashed by the ciborium, genitals squeezed inside the cruets ; mouths crammed with grains of burning incense, eyes pierced and gouged out with scouts' rosaries. \secbreak -In Inamenas, the looting goes on for six days ; the lower city is deserted ; the looters sleep where they looted and killed. The cardinal, locked up in his room, is guarded by ten rebels. B\'{e}ja kills a woman who was throwing herself on the cardinal and wanted to rape him. The cardinal is fed, looked after. +In Inamenas, the looting goes on for six days ; the lower city is deserted ; the looters sleep where they looted and killed. The cardinal, locked up in his room, is guarded by ten rebels. B\'eja kills a woman who was throwing herself on the cardinal and wanted to rape him. The cardinal is fed, looked after. --- Let's spare him, all the important people in the capital trusted him with their secrets, he knows where they hid their treasures. Make him talk, under torture. In the end, once we'll have enough money, we'll kill him. -The cardinal keeps silent, a rebel wrings his wrists. The cardinal utters a little cry, tears well from the corner of his eyelids ; \said{My God, Thy will be done, but if possible, move this cup of bitterness away from my mouth. For a while. A martyr, My Lord, but not so soon\ldots} +The cardinal keeps silent, a rebel wrings his wrists. The cardinal utters a little cry, tears well from the corner of his eyelids ; \speech{My God, Thy will be done, but if possible, move this cup of bitterness away from my mouth. For a while. A martyr, My Lord, but not so soon\ldots} -\said{Under cabin number two, of the Talbot swimming pool.} Hot milk, fruit saved from the fire. The cardinal throws himself, his nose soaks in the bowl, the fruit juice runs on his throat. +\speech{Under cabin number two, of the Talbot swimming pool.} Hot milk, fruit saved from the fire. The cardinal throws himself, his nose soaks in the bowl, the fruit juice runs on his throat. -\said{And where else, where's the gold ? speak.} B\'{e}ja, B\'{e}ja, when he speaks, shit comes out of his mouth. \said{You don't want to talk ?} The door opens, a rebel pushes towards the cardinal's feet a heap of washed bodies, naked~: +\speech{And where else, where's the gold~? speak.} B\'eja, B\'eja, when he speaks, shit comes out of his mouth. \speech{You don't want to talk~?} The door opens, a rebel pushes towards the cardinal's feet a heap of washed bodies, naked~: --- See your little sisters. We've delivered them from their vows. @@ -5757,21 +5762,21 @@ He squats down, thrusts the scalpel in the youngest sister's white throat, a pin --- We salute you, king of the Whites. -The little sisters' bodies are sitting in the confessionals. A rebel grabs an Easter candle from a candlestick, he places it between the cardinal's thighs, he lights it up, wax runs along the candle, like sperm along an erect cock, a rebel opens the tabernacle, takes the ciborium, sets it upside down on the cardinal's head, another one spits in his face. The cardinal, with a backhanded movement of the surplice, wipes his cheek ; his legs drag on the polished floor, the hosts run down along his temples, get caught in his ears ; with a trembling hand, he shakes them off, takes the hosts in his joined hands ; a rebel, sitting on the floor, is crunching a large host. Since the morning, the cardinal tightens his thighs, he wants to piss : \said{My Lord, take me quickly in your paradise, so that I, more quickly, may relieve myself there.} +The little sisters' bodies are sitting in the confessionals. A rebel grabs an Easter candle from a candlestick, he places it between the cardinal's thighs, he lights it up, wax runs along the candle, like sperm along an erect cock, a rebel opens the tabernacle, takes the ciborium, sets it upside down on the cardinal's head, another one spits in his face. The cardinal, with a backhanded movement of the surplice, wipes his cheek ; his legs drag on the polished floor, the hosts run down along his temples, get caught in his ears ; with a trembling hand, he shakes them off, takes the hosts in his joined hands ; a rebel, sitting on the floor, is crunching a large host. Since the morning, the cardinal tightens his thighs, he wants to piss : \speech{My Lord, take me quickly in your paradise, so that I, more quickly, may relieve myself there.} Tears flow on his cheeks, and mix with spittle. A rebel is sitting at the harmonium, he puts his fists on the keyboard, he pulls, he tears off the knobs, he nibbles them in his mouth. The crows, scared by the noise of the harmonium, shoot out of the gargoyles, dive sleepily towards the lower city. -B\'{e}ja walks through the cloisters of the archbishop's palace, he kicks aside the bodies of the priests, the deacons and the sisters ; the refectory doors are open, smeared with blood, some rebels are asleep on the benches, a body rises on the stage, B\'{e}ja walks towards the body ; that of a young sister with her dress tucked up ; the cornet is bathing in blood. B\'{e}ja bends over, he takes the little sister's hand, he stands her up, she hides her face with her hand, a crucifix falls against the wall, a rebel awakens, he straightens himself up, he lies down again, his head resting on his dagger, which is bloodstained, a piece of heart is spitted on it ; B\'{e}ja drags the little sister in the corridors, she lets her head roll on the rebel's shoulder, he enters a dark parlour, the morning beams filter through the shutters ; light up the polished floor ; B\'{e}ja clasps the little sister in his arms, against the red tapestry ; the noise of the explosions makes the French window pane crackle, B\'{e}ja takes her mouth, her waist, the little sister hugs him, B\'{e}ja pulls her cornet off, throws it on the floor, tramples it ; the little sister laughs against the rebel's throat~: +B\'eja walks through the cloisters of the archbishop's palace, he kicks aside the bodies of the priests, the deacons and the sisters ; the refectory doors are open, smeared with blood, some rebels are asleep on the benches, a body rises on the stage, B\'eja walks towards the body ; that of a young sister with her dress tucked up ; the cornet is bathing in blood. B\'eja bends over, he takes the little sister's hand, he stands her up, she hides her face with her hand, a crucifix falls against the wall, a rebel awakens, he straightens himself up, he lies down again, his head resting on his dagger, which is bloodstained, a piece of heart is spitted on it ; B\'eja drags the little sister in the corridors, she lets her head roll on the rebel's shoulder, he enters a dark parlour, the morning beams filter through the shutters ; light up the polished floor ; B\'eja clasps the little sister in his arms, against the red tapestry ; the noise of the explosions makes the French window pane crackle, B\'eja takes her mouth, her waist, the little sister hugs him, B\'eja pulls her cornet off, throws it on the floor, tramples it ; the little sister laughs against the rebel's throat~: ---- I saw the other life, it's all black. His Eminence and his god were lying. Spikes burn between the thighs. A soldier was bending over me, his halif- circumcised penis was entering my secret hole, but I wished for a brave soldier. A priest offered himself to make me come, then a deacon, but their glans was covered. The Christ then arrived, he was turning around me, he looked down, showed his bare heart : \said{Thy heart is not enough for me, the engagement is dragging on, look for another fianc\'{e}.} +--- I saw the other life, it's all black. His Eminence and his god were lying. Spikes burn between the thighs. A soldier was bending over me, his half-circumcised penis was entering my secret hole, but I wished for a brave soldier. A priest offered himself to make me come, then a deacon, but their glans was covered. The Christ then arrived, he was turning around me, he looked down, showed his bare heart : \speech{Thy heart is not enough for me, the engagement is dragging on, look for another fianc\'ee.} -B\'{e}ja knocks the girl on the sunny wooden floor, he bites her lips, he spits the torn flesh into her mouth ; the girl holds his cock and squeezes it between her thighs~: +B\'eja knocks the girl on the sunny wooden floor, he bites her lips, he spits the torn flesh into her mouth ; the girl holds his cock and squeezes it between her thighs~: --- Grow hard, little plough, open, tear, sow. -Rain suddenly lashes against the shutters of the little parlour ; B\'{e}ja rises from the dead girl, her dream achieved ; he runs in the cloister, he hears the cardinal's cries ; it stops raining in the beginning of the afternoon. B\'{e}ja strokes the forehead and the hair moist with sweat, the cardinal gives a start, as though he was stroked by a lynx~: +Rain suddenly lashes against the shutters of the little parlour ; B\'eja rises from the dead girl, her dream achieved ; he runs in the cloister, he hears the cardinal's cries ; it stops raining in the beginning of the afternoon. B\'eja strokes the forehead and the hair moist with sweat, the cardinal gives a start, as though he was stroked by a lynx~: ---- You can make your sacrifice now, we'll resuscitate a deacon for you. You, search in the corridors, in the cells, in the latrine. How many do you want, bishop ? How many to tuck up your chasuble~? +--- You can make your sacrifice now, we'll resuscitate a deacon for you. You, search in the corridors, in the cells, in the latrine. How many do you want, bishop~? How many to tuck up your chasuble~? --- One alone would be enough, or one of you, for the salvation of your soul. @@ -5783,7 +5788,7 @@ He retires in the sacristy, he leans out of the window : the wall is too high, h --- Blessed are you, who can not see all these satans. -At the moment of elevation, two rebels grab the deacon who was taking the cruets behind the altar, they slit his throat, they pull out his heart, a rebel is standing in front of the altar, his hands holding pistols, another, with bare hands, on the right of the cardinal ; this one is praying, his head on the altar cloth, the rebel with bare hands, takes the heart and lays it in the chalice, under the paten ; a rebel, behind the altar, slips on the deacon's effects, he fills a cruet with blood he comes to the cardinal's right, looking down. The cardinal uncovers the chalice, brings it closer to the cruet, the rebel pours the blood ; the cardinal moves his fingers forward, the smell of blood rises, the cardinal looks at the bottom of the chalice. Then, they rush at him, open his mouth, pour the deacon's blood, thrust the bloody heart into his throat. Choking, the chasuble splashed with blood, he falls backwards, his teeth bite into the heart, his mouth spits, B\'{e}ja squats down, takes his head on his knee~: +At the moment of elevation, two rebels grab the deacon who was taking the cruets behind the altar, they slit his throat, they pull out his heart, a rebel is standing in front of the altar, his hands holding pistols, another, with bare hands, on the right of the cardinal ; this one is praying, his head on the altar cloth, the rebel with bare hands, takes the heart and lays it in the chalice, under the paten ; a rebel, behind the altar, slips on the deacon's effects, he fills a cruet with blood he comes to the cardinal's right, looking down. The cardinal uncovers the chalice, brings it closer to the cruet, the rebel pours the blood ; the cardinal moves his fingers forward, the smell of blood rises, the cardinal looks at the bottom of the chalice. Then, they rush at him, open his mouth, pour the deacon's blood, thrust the bloody heart into his throat. Choking, the chasuble splashed with blood, he falls backwards, his teeth bite into the heart, his mouth spits, B\'eja squats down, takes his head on his knee~: --- We offered you a real sacrifice, and here you are getting angry with your god. @@ -5791,7 +5796,7 @@ Towards the evening, covered with spittle, blood, urine, the cardinal straighten --- Enough. I'm a negro. I have no gold. Enough of this white skin, I'm a negro. I was, with you. I surrender. ---- He wants to be king. Let's kill him, B\'{e}ja +--- He wants to be king. Let's kill him, B\'eja --- I'm a negro. I'm a negro. I am free. Negro. @@ -5799,10 +5804,10 @@ Towards the evening, covered with spittle, blood, urine, the cardinal straighten And, throwing themselves on him, they flay him. -At night, looting is done by torchlight. The power stations all exploded during the bombing ; hangings, carpets catch fire. In the cathedral, the looters, climbing on step ladders, put on the emergency light, gas explodes in the rebels' face, women wrap themselves up in the chasubles, chase each other between the pillars, spit on the tabernacle. Couples embrace on the altar; others, on the organ's high manual. Groups of children, squatting around the ciboriums, are gobbling up hosts. Already, food is running low ; new-born children, abandoned in the lower city houses by their mothers gone up to loot, die, under the rats' sharp gaze. A child makes a large host roll on the paving stones, like a hoop ; another, squatting on a pomp ciborium, drops his turds. A man embraces a wooden statue of the virgin, he cleaves the statue with his dagger at the place of the cunt, he throws himself forward, his teeth nibble the cheeks and the faded lips, he pulls out his cock, gives it a wank and sinks half of it into the slit. A street musician, sitting in the pulpit, marks the rhythm of the matings with his drum. Already, a few rats, drawn by the smell of sperm and undernourished flesh, of the spilled wine and the grains stuck by blood to the looters' tatters, trot between the mating bodies, lick the sperm running from body to body and mixing, nibble hands opening up through the spasm, knees slackening ; attack children asleep or sunk in dream and terror. Women made mad by the inebriation and the sight of gold, draw their own children against their bodies, open their thighs and, these children having penetrated them by force, they brain them or slit their throats before they could get up. One woman, eight months' pregnant is squatting in the light from a stained glass window, her skirts tucked up over her shit, a long black snake slips from under a confessional, as far as the heap of turds, raises its head, and plunges it between the woman's buttocks ; she screams, she falls forehead against the paving stone ; the snake digs, hisses, it penetrates as far as the intestines, it tears them, it injects its venom into the foetus, its head bores inside the flesh ; the woman yells, the sweat from her forehead mixes, on the stone, with the foam falling from her lips ; the snake withdraws its soiled head, it flees through the cloister's half- opened door, it crawls towards the pond of reddened water, dives, swims for a while between the slicks of blood ; moves up again on the stone, warms itself up, flees again towards the small garden's fence where it stops and coils up between the shoes of a living man, entered, unknown, in Inamenas before the start of the looting, while the echo of the last explosion was fading away. +At night, looting is done by torchlight. The power stations all exploded during the bombing ; hangings, carpets catch fire. In the cathedral, the looters, climbing on step ladders, put on the emergency light, gas explodes in the rebels' face, women wrap themselves up in the chasubles, chase each other between the pillars, spit on the tabernacle. Couples embrace on the altar; others, on the organ's high manual. Groups of children, squatting around the ciboriums, are gobbling up hosts. Already, food is running low ; new-born children, abandoned in the lower city houses by their mothers gone up to loot, die, under the rats' sharp gaze. A child makes a large host roll on the paving stones, like a hoop ; another, squatting on a pomp ciborium, drops his turds. A man embraces a wooden statue of the virgin, he cleaves the statue with his dagger at the place of the cunt, he throws himself forward, his teeth nibble the cheeks and the faded lips, he pulls out his cock, gives it a wank and sinks half of it into the slit. A street musician, sitting in the pulpit, marks the rhythm of the matings with his drum. Already, a few rats, drawn by the smell of sperm and undernourished flesh, of the spilled wine and the grains stuck by blood to the looters' tatters, trot between the mating bodies, lick the sperm running from body to body and mixing, nibble hands opening up through the spasm, knees slackening ; attack children asleep or sunk in dream and terror. Women made mad by the inebriation and the sight of gold, draw their own children against their bodies, open their thighs and, these children having penetrated them by force, they brain them or slit their throats before they could get up. One woman, eight months' pregnant is squatting in the light from a stained glass window, her skirts tucked up over her shit, a long black snake slips from under a confessional, as far as the heap of turds, raises its head, and plunges it between the woman's buttocks ; she screams, she falls forehead against the paving stone ; the snake digs, hisses, it penetrates as far as the intestines, it tears them, it injects its venom into the foetus, its head bores inside the flesh ; the woman yells, the sweat from her forehead mixes, on the stone, with the foam falling from her lips ; the snake withdraws its soiled head, it flees through the cloister's half-opened door, it crawls towards the pond of reddened water, dives, swims for a while between the slicks of blood ; moves up again on the stone, warms itself up, flees again towards the small garden's fence where it stops and coils up between the shoes of a living man, entered, unknown, in Inamenas before the start of the looting, while the echo of the last explosion was fading away. Some rebels, hosts spitted on their cocks, chase the women, the statues -they bump into, vibrate. Naked men search through the cupboards of the sacristy ; dressed by women who, in the same time, caress them, masturbate them, they go up to the altar, pierce their own wrist with the dagger, suck up the blood, while the women tuck up their chasuble and make incense burn between their legs. A young rebel, his gilded chasuble stuck to his bloodstained nipples, motionless in a beam of light flowing from the stained glass, dreams, the sprinkled incense fuming along his thighs, he stares at the image of the crucified god, he holds out his arms, joins his feet, rolls his head over his shoulder. He dances. The palms, lifted for a moment by the panting of the bodies mating on the altar, veil the image of the god. The young rebel dances, caparisoned with gold and linen, the nails under his shoes chink in the sharp beams. At each turning round, he looks ai the god, smiles to him, holds out his arms, tilts his head on the shoulder ; the image of the god, veiled by shadows and lights, comes to life, the young rebel goes up to the altar, still dancing, he holds out his arms but the living man dashes out of the small garden and takes his throat and knocks him down on the altar steps, and, pulling a girl from under a man bending over her, he drags her under the young rebel ; then, grabbing the image of the god, he tears it up, he throws it in a fire blazing up at his feet. He strides along between the mating couples, he bends over, his hand brushes the bodies ; those, under the stroke, tense up, blood seethes in their veins. The man returns to the small garden, squats down, speaks to the snake coiled up at his feet ; the snake dashes on the burning pebbles, crawls between the clumps of shrubs ; as it crawls by, the dew-covered flowers, the insects shrivel up, the pebbles lose their lustre ; the snake steals again into the cathedral, pushing before him a tuft of flowered grass. +they bump into, vibrate. Naked men search through the cupboards of the sacristy ; dressed by women who, in the same time, caress them, masturbate them, they go up to the altar, pierce their own wrist with the dagger, suck up the blood, while the women tuck up their chasuble and make incense burn between their legs. A young rebel, his gilded chasuble stuck to his bloodstained nipples, motionless in a beam of light flowing from the stained glass, dreams, the sprinkled incense fuming along his thighs, he stares at the image of the crucified god, he holds out his arms, joins his feet, rolls his head over his shoulder. He dances. The palms, lifted for a moment by the panting of the bodies mating on the altar, veil the image of the god. The young rebel dances, caparisoned with gold and linen, the nails under his shoes chink in the sharp beams. At each turning round, he looks at the god, smiles to him, holds out his arms, tilts his head on the shoulder ; the image of the god, veiled by shadows and lights, comes to life, the young rebel goes up to the altar, still dancing, he holds out his arms but the living man dashes out of the small garden and takes his throat and knocks him down on the altar steps, and, pulling a girl from under a man bending over her, he drags her under the young rebel ; then, grabbing the image of the god, he tears it up, he throws it in a fire blazing up at his feet. He strides along between the mating couples, he bends over, his hand brushes the bodies ; those, under the stroke, tense up, blood seethes in their veins. The man returns to the small garden, squats down, speaks to the snake coiled up at his feet ; the snake dashes on the burning pebbles, crawls between the clumps of shrubs ; as it crawls by, the dew-covered flowers, the insects shrivel up, the pebbles lose their lustre ; the snake steals again into the cathedral, pushing before him a tuft of flowered grass. A wave runs along the island of Lannilis, it rises inside the creeks, it drowns the wheat on the low headlands, it splashes, it covers up the capes ; it comes together ; flown over by a tepid spray, it rolls towards Inamenas harbour ; it bursts the pier, smashes the charred wrecks, blackens, throws the boats against the jetty. @@ -5821,7 +5826,7 @@ Kment runs in the upper city, his bare feet sink in the bloody sludge pouring ou --- A child is moving within me since this morning : Touch. The last-born of the world, and a rat made it. -\chapter{Seventh Chant} +\chapter{Seventh Song} The waters are covering the archipelago ; the top of the mountains emerges alone from a whirlpool of mud, of stones, of branches, of tools, of axles, of cartridge magazines, of tyres, of plane carcasses, of knives. A glaring sunshine hammers the waters. The slaves' rock looms up from a red whirlwind in which two half-track vehicles are banging against each other, filled with naked soldiers with their wounds washed. Charges, mines, grenades, bombs, still explode at the bottom of the water, lift it up, tear it. Then, in a space of time of one day and two nights, the waters retire as far as the ruins of Titov Veles. In the morning, clear waters, run through by sea currents, surround the rock covered with a thick and light mud ; then, towards noon, retire again as far as the ruins of Titov Veles, washing the area thus exposed ; during the night, beaches form at the limit of the retired waters. Until the first glimmers of dawn, an island takes shape, limited by what once was the stinking suburbs of Titov Veles and the Thilissi village. @@ -5858,7 +5863,7 @@ At night, when he sees an eye sparkle, he leaps forward, he gouges it out with a But Kment, down in the forest again, vainly covering the fuming animals, touches his silent belly ; he rushes up to the top of the mountain, catches unawares in the middle of the night Giauhare lying, breathing heavily, under the young wolf ; he picks up a stone, he throws it at the wolf's head, killing him on the spot, he bends over, he exposes Giauhare, he throws the remains into the trees, the birds shoot out, Kment takes Giauhare's head in his hands, he bites it, he bathes it with foam and tears, all night he yaps, he blows in her mouth, presses her tongue, but Giauhare remains silent, she kisses the boy's lips, she utters little wolf's cries ; her breasts, which Kment is nibbling, her belly on which he presses his fist, have grown hard, brown like the she-wolf's hide ; the down of the cunt and of the armpits strangles Kment's throat, like tufts of dry grass, he spits them out again, his fingers run upon the crumpled skin, riddled, smeared with a stale and powerful smell, covered with scabs, chafed ; when he thrusts his cock inside, the lips of Giauhare's cunt close up on it, sharp-edged ; their sex juices drown it, hardens it, stretches it, tears it, it bleeds, Kment wants to pull it out, but Giauhare tightens her thighs ; the sex juices change, soften Kment's cock, devour it ; Kment gets up and flees into the forest, screaming, his hand covering the wound. Giauhare falls asleep, with the double sex. -Kment jumps, leaps over the small valleys, the animais laugh, in the shadows ; when he sits or lies down to rest and dream, they pinch his feet, drop their shit on his shoulders, sting his chest. He wanders on, escorted by bear and lion cubs, squalling and purring pumas, his feet bloody, his legs smeared with white clay, tufts of down stuck behind his ears ; one morning he ties between his thighs a bamboo stick splashed with sap and milk ; every night, he goes near the clearing where Giauhare lies ; he watches her dream and come alone, he masturbates the bamboo while watching her, his lips move ; one evening, he jumps on her, he covers her and when he returns to the banks of the spring, he touches the wound between his thighs : his cock is growing again, he sits down, he rubs his hand on the lymph of a plant emerging from the water, he bends his back, his nape, his eyes observe the bud between his thighs, he smears it with lymph, fondles it, pets it~: +Kment jumps, leaps over the small valleys, the animals laugh, in the shadows ; when he sits or lies down to rest and dream, they pinch his feet, drop their shit on his shoulders, sting his chest. He wanders on, escorted by bear and lion cubs, squalling and purring pumas, his feet bloody, his legs smeared with white clay, tufts of down stuck behind his ears ; one morning he ties between his thighs a bamboo stick splashed with sap and milk ; every night, he goes near the clearing where Giauhare lies ; he watches her dream and come alone, he masturbates the bamboo while watching her, his lips move ; one evening, he jumps on her, he covers her and when he returns to the banks of the spring, he touches the wound between his thighs : his cock is growing again, he sits down, he rubs his hand on the lymph of a plant emerging from the water, he bends his back, his nape, his eyes observe the bud between his thighs, he smears it with lymph, fondles it, pets it~: --- Grow, grow, and I'll give you something to eat. @@ -5867,12 +5872,4 @@ As Kment comes to take back his cock from her, Giauhare feels desire rise again, The drum beats in the clearing below ; through the projected roots, they see the lying beasts intermingled ; a cry echoes from the deep of the sky, the beam burns, the cry comes down, Kment and Giauhare hide in a hedge, fall asleep ; in the middle of the night, a great beating of wings shakes the hedge ; cry and beam of light have died out ; on the horizon, a bright sail, swollen by a stormy wind mixing all the secret breaths of earth and sea\ldots Kment and Giauhare, woken up, walk, knees and fists in the thorns, push the hedge aside ; a man bending over the stone, is mating with the goddess ; a mane sticks out of his nape and of his back ; on his head a dove and a crown of thorns ; his bare legs are vibrating, incandescent ; in the distance, on the sea, the sail scuds along towards the island and the fish shoot out, sparkle on the forge, strike the sides of the boat, play in the deep beneath the shadow of the hull ; the boat is empty but a beam of light, the first one of dawn, watches and stands by, upon the sail. Kment kneels down before Giauhare, and Giauhare before Kment. Fists on the ground, they kiss each other on the knees, on the genitals, on the forehead. - -\clearpage - -.. - -\clearpage -.. - \end{document} |