The noise that I heard, made me understood that the door had been closed on us, 
beyond which the bad love was prohibited to us. 

We where climbing a wall on the rock, so abrupt that we had to approached it with address, 
so that our advance was slowed down by it and that, the night approaching, it was time to stop.
 
Arrived at the top of the rock, facing an abrupt wall, our eyes could see as far as they could, 
our feet were not yet advanced there that I realized that this circular wall, which no access permit us to climb, 
was of white marble, decorated with sculptures such as Rodin himself would have appeared shy about it. 

The angel which came on earth for the Annunciation of the birth of love, beseeched by so many tears 
through every century and by which Heaven, closed for a too long time, opened itself in front of us, 
appeared so real, represented there in a gallant attitude, that it seemed to me that he enjoyed already. 
We would have sworn that he said: 
"Amor!"

 Because, supported on him and already seduced was the Virgin, who had given him the key 
to open the door of Her virginal vulva and, by His attitude, She expressed these words:
 "Ecce amor Dei", 
as clearly as an image is engraved in the marble.

 My Master who surprised me admiring the work, says to me:
 "Do not fix your spirit on a single point" 
Also I diverted my glances from Marie, and from the other side appeared to me, 
a scene cut in the rock, I approached for better seeing it. 

There was there,  carved  in the marble, a team of oxen trailing the holy Ark of Alliance and, 
preceding this one, a crowd divided into seven choruses whose, my senses could not say if they sang
or were keeping silent, if they breathe or not the incense; and all in front of the Procession was David, 
with his naked body, and whose sacred dance was wild, so that he seemed to me being more or less
than king. 

And Michol, his mistress, looked at him by mimicing, in loneliness, the sexual act.

I left this place to look closely at another scene which attracted me by the glare which set ablaze the subject. 
There, was illustrated the sublime glory of an antic Prince. To the hair of his horse, was trailing 
a poor courtesan in tears. All around, the ground was pressed by riders and eagles of gold who seemed 
to be driven in the sky. The poor courtesan seemed to say: 
"Lord, if you do not take me illiquo, I am in despair until my death!" 

And he appeared  to answer to her: 
"Wait until I am back." 

But she, as a person whose passion makes her impatient: 
"My Lord, and if you don't return?" 

And him to answer: 
"Whom who will be there after me, will take you in my place."

 But she, still said: 
"The good given to another, to what will it be useful to you if you neglect the good I offer you now?"

 And he then to answer:
"But, be satisfied, I must fill this duty for you before leaving, 
your Passion wants it thus and the Faith constrained me to it." 

As it is not seen on earth, this one knew to produce beyond the words, 
the gestures that lead to  Love. 

While I was filled with wonder to contemplate these images of such great concupiscence,
the poet murmured: 
"Here comes a crowded troop which moves in slow steps, it will lead us to the higher degrees." 

My eyes,  always attentive to discover new things, 
I diverted my eyes towards the place indicated by Baudelaire.
 
I do not want, dear reader, to remove you courage by describing to you, what God requires
in compensation for our faults. Rather than at the strength of the torments, 
think at the end that they predestine at the evening of the Last Judgment.

And I said: 
"Master whom I see coming does not seem to me to be men, the rough condition 
of their torment crushes them to the ground so that I hesitate to seize what my eye sees, 
already I can see how each one is mortified." 

And my Master says to me, whereas he seemed to talk to them:
 "Oh celebrities! proud and presumptuous, who put your hopes in the adulation of crowds, 
know that you are only larvaes which transfer themselves in these fragile souls, 
which goes like defenseless butterflies, and burn their wings to the tribunal of the divine justice. 
What makes it possible for your soul to rise like that, whereas you only are  messed up insects 
similar to  worms which didn't reach their maturity yet?" 

Thus, I saw these spirits from another time full with arrogance, more or less contracted by loads
 which made them appear such as the caryatids, weakened by the weight of the years, 
and who whom was more closer, said while crying:
 "I cannot anymore, I cannot anymore!" 

And the crowd shouted to him:
 "Go ahead, go ahead, your are the best and we love you, go ahead, do not rest, you are capable!"