I was walking all along Sainte-Catherine,
alone at the heart of winter .
Everything was white in the middle of a blank,
the wizzard whipping my face ...
Montreal ,frozen mother incarnated
and the Saint-Laurent ,ocean of rock-hard waves...
Beneath the metro\'s mazes , hell\'s womb ,
the city flesh was pulsating ,
indecent with heat and ease ,
contemptuous of the solitary wanderer ,
madman in search of some petrified truth ...
I didn\'t want to give in to solar temptations...
My skin shivering as if seized by a sacred chill,
soul clad in steel armor ...
Montreal\'s fading towers ,
walls powdery fireworks ,
Sainte-Catherine,polar steppe of emptiness,
eagle,bear and wolf my guides ...
This day the town sends me its night
in daylight hours and the silence
of its transparent ghosts ,
forever prisoners of an evil princess ...
I am the urban shaman ,
winter is my land ...