"Fiti aspri!"
[Friedrich Nietzsche - "Antchristul"]


Sweat for your brows, drops in my glass
Thorns in your feet, taste for my wine
Nietzscheean slaves, all you sad stories

are gathered on my bloody red tongue.

And it smells like rain in this old crowded life

where the ever-changing seasons are blowing so rude
And nobody cares for this wine before me on the table
The generations worked their lives for its red


I'm tempted to say as the old philosophers spoke:
"You must be ruthless to all human kind!"

Sow my years - change your lies
Place all destinies - take their price
Drunk - with teardrops - dropping red

The spirits - so tangled - in life's perished webs

Nothing more fearful, nothing more strange

All our memories, all our rage
Opened at night by trembling white hands
Loosen again in the vineyard of sentiments...


We're filling the vineyard with our own reflection
No more tales of glory, no more revelations!