I went into a field of flowers, whose petals are whiter than snow and
whose hearts are pure gold.
Far afield a woman cried, “I have killed him I loved!” and from a jar
she poured blood upon the flowers whose petals are whiter than snow and
whose hearts are pure gold.
Far afield I followed, and on the jar I read a thousand names, while
from within the fresh blood bubbled to the brim.
“I have killed him I loved!” she cried. “The world’s athirst; now let
it drink!” She passed, and far afield I watched her pouring blood upon
the flowers whose petals are whiter than snow and whose hearts are pure
gold.