Rolls a cigarette of air
The mute girl talks:
It is art’s imperfection.
This impenetrable speech.
The motor car is truly launched:
Four martyrs’ heads
Roll under the wheels.
Ah! a thousand flames, a fire,
The light, a shadow!
The sun is following me.
A feather gives to a hat
A touch of lightness:
The chimney smokes.
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The curve of your eyes embraces my heart
halo of time, sure nocturnal cradle,And if I no longer know all I have lived throughIt’s that your eyes have not always been mine.Leaves of day and moss of dew,Reeds of breeze, smiles perfumed,Wings covering the world of light,Boats charged with sky and sea,Hunters of sound and sources of colourPerfume enclosed by a covey of…
She looks into me
To see if I loveShe has confidence she forgetsUnder the clouds of her eyelidsHer head falls asleep in my handsWhere are weTogether inseparableAlive aliveHe alive she aliveAnd my head rolls through her dreams.
I speak to you across cities
My mouth is upon your pillowBoth faces of the walls come meetingMy voice discovering youI speak to you of eternityO cities memories of citiesCities wrapped in our desiresCities come early cities come latelyCities strong and cities secretPlundered of their master’s buildersAll their thinkers all their ghostsFields pattern of emeraldBright living survivingThe harvest of the sky…
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For the splendour of the day of happinesses in the airTo live the taste of colours easilyTo enjoy loves so as to laughTo open eyes at the final momentShe has every willingness.
Elle est debour sur mes paupières
Elle a la forme de mes mains,Elle a la couleur de mes yeux,Elle s’engloutit dan mon ombreComme une pierre sur le ciel.Elle a toujours les yeux ouvertsEt ne me laisse pas dormir.Ses rêves en pleine lumièreFont s’évaporer les soleils,Me font rire, pleurer et rire,Parler sans avoir rien à dire—(Samuel Beckett’s translation)She is standing on my…