Wilde , eterno amor e profeta do semestre.

The Harlot´s House

(...)

Sometimes a clockwork puppet pressed
A phantom lover to her breast
Sometimes they seemed to try to sing

Sometimes a horrible marionette
Came out, and smoked its cigarrette
Upon the steps like a live thing

Then, turning to my love, I said
"The dead are dancing with the dead
The dust is whirling with the dust"

But she - she heard the violin
And left my side, and entered in
Love passed into the house of lust

Then suddenly the tune went false
The dancers wearied of the waltz
The shadows ceased to wheel and whirl

And down the long and silent street
The dawn, with silver-sandalled feet
Crept like a frightened girl