by Negromancer » Sun May 15, 2011 8:53 am
Knut Hamsun:
Alvilde, I remember last night,
you cried: Kneel!
I drank from your shoe.
There was laughter too.
I did it merely for your appeal.
Alvilde, you reached out a flower.
I stuck myself forward.
You let out a kringe,
a hardy sting.
I tumbled out, for the pitch-black homeward.
"The best drink of the day, was the drink he had in his head before the first drink of the day."