In der palästra

As through the pipes the waters fell down to the bottom of the well,
in listless apathy I gazed at the cold waters … - as he bathed.
I half behold that scenery and its most sensual masculinity.
Yet, disappointment, oh, can't you see, is still the cause and the
cardinal symptom of my sick, sad reality.

Silver equals chill, but that suits me just fine. I'm shyly sipping
water … while he drinks whole jugs of wine. He likes all kind of
women, and I … I only HATE … men.
He marvels at all things new to him … - and I only wait … for all
things in this sick world … to end.

The water pouring down his spine, caressed his strong physique, oh, so
well-defined, calm like a rock he stands, oh, behold his beautiful
body and soul a friendly God must have built this man to an all
well-balanced whole.
What sad bewilderment this brought, physical clearness, alas, still so
much abhorred: an ancient ghost awoke and fiercely arose in me: it was
that old, savage, yet half-forgotten ideal of perfect neutrality. Silver equals chill, but that suits me just fine. I'm shyly sipping
water … while he drinks whole jugs of wine. He likes all kind of
women, and I … I only HATE … men. He marvels at all things new to him
… - and I only wait … for all things in this sick world … to end.

I somewhat envy this naturally beautiful man, he never knew or
encountered the hatred and shame that I bare. The doubt, the cloak of
disgust and the all-devouring dread, and if I told him about it, he
might only shake his head with kindly amused, melodious laughter, he
then would perhaps merely smile at my … oh, so stupid silliness … and
the BEAST that is raging inside.