I cut my leg just yesterday,

They’ve told me it’s no other way,

So I’ve continued to cut them all,

One at the time like limbs of doll.

But in the end when reached the heart,

She asked me: leave brain out,

He had no party in this war,

It’s me and you, my darling whore,

Cause in the organs we have thrust,

Our mighty power of the lust,

There is a hidden little breath

Who bellows loud on organs’ death.

(Ioan Antoci)