poeme
Dream
There was once a boy with long blond hair He always wanted to have a gipsy's friend But I was stronger than him and scratched his head With my brain.
Spleen
Three sisters dressed in black Three sisters dressed in white Needle the time and needle the life Immobile running wich could only end When the snake will swalow is own head Trees undeads, three hundred And sixty and two And sixty and five So many but...
Courant d'air
Je ne suis qu'un courant d'air Quelque chose d'insaisissable, Quelque chose qui fuit entre les doigts, Quelque chose qu'on retient pas. Il paraît que je suis que de l'air, Fluide comme la neige, et moins palpable. Mais moi, moi j'aurais aimé être la terre...