I think about your sex. My heart simplified, I think about your sex, before the ripe daughterloin of day. I touch the bud of joy, it is in season. And an ancient sentiment dies degenerated into brains. I think about your sex, furrow more prolific and harmonious than the belly of the Shadow, though Death conceives and bears from God himself. Oh Conscience, I am thinking, yes, about the free beast who takes pleasure where he wants, where he can. Oh, scandal of the honey of twilights. Oh mute thunder. Rednuhtetum!
From The Complete Poetry: A Bilingual Edition, by César Vallejo, Clayton Eshleman (trans.), © 2007 by The Regents of the University of California. Published by the University of California Press.