...
is you when you left
air that gradually closes
But always ready to reopen in its scrapie
scar
And my soul against the light So deep
dizzy
In this sudden lack of love is more than it
form
Between pain and oblivion. And my heart is
poorly protected
For some flesh and many shade
Who is the taste of the grave
In this day nothing stifled
Falling stars, drip honey
secret which is no longer
That little dream over.
Jules Supervielle The Fable of the world, followed Oblivious memory, nrf Poetry / Gallimard
0 comments:
Post a Comment