I'd like to visit the Volbriöö
in old Tartu, where the witches
go door to door but are
actually drunken students.
I'd like to snore, and what's more
dream of dancing with you.
You,
were the finest thing
I did not know, I knew,
I knew of you.
When witches drink their weirdest brew,
and dance the dance of Volbriöö,
and once I knew at once
what I was for Nature's witch,
that of a pupil in a nava scuola,
a pupil down in old Tartu,
studying hard under
Jakob Johann von Uexküll
and reading about the feast of
fools where black pudding stands
in for ordure ala fait von cul.
You
You
are not the homoncule
nor the molecule
nor the follicule
but only
you.
It's coming now!
Let's go to old Tartu!
And be witches, or students in
the Volbriöö.
It's the masks
the authorities
hate most!
