In Memoriam H.H.
Fille noble, tu n'a jamais vu danser les étoiles;
Le soleil a omis d'embrasser ton visage;
Le vent n'a pas pu jouer avec tes bouclettes.
Les rivages du Styx ont été ton seul voyage,
La Nature cruelle te jeta aux oubliettes.
Fille noble, tu n'a jamais vu danser les étoiles.
Ton épitaphe brumeuse est gravée dans ma chair
Et les sables du Temps ne combleront jamais
Les rainures creusées par les larmes de tant d'années,
Tant ton cher spectre tapi en mon âme se plaît
A m'arracher chaque nuit des cris de damné.
Ton épitaphe brumeuse est gravée dans ma chair!
Ce petit berceau vide hante mes jours et mes nuits,
Ton cadavre que je n'ai jamais serré me pèse
Tel le globe sur les épaules d'un Atlas vieilli.
Sanglante épiphanie, funeste catéchèse!
Ton charmant sourire devait éclairer nos vies...
Ce petit berceau vide hante mes jours et mes nuits!
M'accorderas-tu cette danse, ô Disparue?
Nous déchirerons les ailes de l'ange de lumière
Et puis, main dans la main, nous nous élèverons,
Nous abandonnerons les futilités d'Hier,
Tous deux nous nous envolerons comme des hérons.
M'accorderas-tu cette danse, ô Disparue?
Until we meet again.
Tim, 3 mars 2008
3.3.08
Sunshine (new poem)
There is no new thing under the sun;
Only enterprises half begun,
Aborted endeavours to do good;
For only harlots try to be prude
And only junkies try to stay clean,
So we are all blind fools trying to glean
Pieces of our selves in the gutter,
And the parts of our souls which clutter
The drab dustbins of Humanity.
All is absurd — all is vanity.
There is no new thing under the sun;
So we all get drunk and have some fun,
Yes we get naked and we get high
But we don’t feel free and we don’t know why.
We work to get rich and then we die
Before the gloss on our lips is dry.
We try to delay the ferryman,
So we sacrifice our soul to Pan.
We are shadows of Humanity.
We are absurd — we are Vanity.
There is no new thing under the sun ;
Our existence is a grey thread spun
By the cruel hands of Destiny,
Which is what we call the villainy
Provoked by our own absurd mistakes.
We eat our ludicrous tales like snakes,
Hide ourselves behind a rotten bark
And fumble in circles in the dark
Cadaver of our Humanity.
All is absurd — all is vanity.
Tim, October 2007
Only enterprises half begun,
Aborted endeavours to do good;
For only harlots try to be prude
And only junkies try to stay clean,
So we are all blind fools trying to glean
Pieces of our selves in the gutter,
And the parts of our souls which clutter
The drab dustbins of Humanity.
All is absurd — all is vanity.
There is no new thing under the sun;
So we all get drunk and have some fun,
Yes we get naked and we get high
But we don’t feel free and we don’t know why.
We work to get rich and then we die
Before the gloss on our lips is dry.
We try to delay the ferryman,
So we sacrifice our soul to Pan.
We are shadows of Humanity.
We are absurd — we are Vanity.
There is no new thing under the sun ;
Our existence is a grey thread spun
By the cruel hands of Destiny,
Which is what we call the villainy
Provoked by our own absurd mistakes.
We eat our ludicrous tales like snakes,
Hide ourselves behind a rotten bark
And fumble in circles in the dark
Cadaver of our Humanity.
All is absurd — all is vanity.
Tim, October 2007
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