Listen to me. I speak softly in your ear. But don’t misunderstand my soft tone. Go out into the anguished night, naked, go to the place where the path turns.
In a lonely forest far from your abandoned clothing will you hunch down carefully like a she-wolf.
Lightning with its fierce stench and pounding rain are the companions of anguish and obscenity.
Get up, and flee: childish, abandoned, howling in frightened laughter.Georges Bataille
A poem written in 1944 to a woman Bataille had just met, Diane Kotchoubey - soon to be his second wife. Translation by Eric Mader-Lin.