lundi 23 novembre 2015


(or the english translation of my poem "somnambule")

As the dead from his grave,
I rise from my bed.
I walk without a sound
Along the shadow path

In my eyes wide open,
Live many colors
Unseen here below,
Making my fears alive

You don't get it, do you?
I have to shut that door,
Move those walls,
Chase the rats away.

You don't see them, do you?
Those hungry monsters.
You don't know that, do you?
I need to speak to them.

I know what they write
On the surface of your bones,
Behind your figures,
In your candid souls.

Only I can decipher
The alphabet of dread.
Only I stay awake,
To hold the watchtower.

It is no less than rape
I struggle to escape,
The weight of the spider
Who's crushing me under.

Down that bottomless night
Live wasps of giant height,
Clinging to the ceiling,
Waiting, waiting, waiting

So I speak alone.
Sometimes I yell,
Tearing out of my throat
The many stings they put.

You are way too many
Here at my soulside
Sticking to the eyes
I once claimed mine.

jeudi 5 novembre 2015

Mon phénix nocturne

Mon amour joli,
C’est le feu que portent 

Tes cheveux roussis
Qui te rend si forte. 

Dans ce brasier 
Disparaît l’horreur,
En auto-da-fé
Des mille douleurs 

Plantées dans ta chair, 
Comme autant d’épées, 
Et la voix des airs,
À nouveau éclairée
Par ces flammes vives, 

S’offre à ton vol libre,
Ta peur part en cendres, 

Plus tôt que le mal
Aux yeux de Cassandre, 

Déjà prête au bal
Des statues d’argile 

Rouge sang qu’habitent 
La Mort malhabile
Et ses acolytes.
Spectres affamés
Que tu fis mentir
Et sus déjouer
D’un seul de tes sourires.