Evil Landscape by Tristan Corbière (Translated by C.F. MacIntyre)

Sand of old bones—The wave gasps

knells: breaking sound on sound…

—pale salt marsh, where the moon downs

fat worms to make the night pass.

—Calm of pestilence, where

fever cooks…The curs’d marsh-light

dies.—Stinking grass where the hare

is a scared warlock in flight…

—The White Laundress spreads

the dirty clothes of the dead,

to the sun of the wolves...— The toads

little precentors of gloom,

poison with their bellies’ loads

their round stools, the mushrooms.