I am not beautiful When I’ve seen me in the mirror I laughed at this image that was me So much ugliness has something funny The antic is my face Emetic for the glance My cold body warms no chair Regards to Hieronymus Bosch Certainly erotism should be in a way grotesque Which transgression could be more delicious than a violation of good taste? My love roots in a dunghill It bears beautific blooms And therefore it’s repulsive I am not beautiful Can intelligence be teasing? Seductive like beauty The joys of love are not granted me My love roots in a dunghill It bears beautific blooms And therefore it’s repulsive I am not beautiful