Limbo wanderer
filled with this cold blue light
like a flame in the deep ether
of a cosmic memory ,
fleeting anima\'s face ,
telling me the legend
of Saturne rings .
Glass shattered
by long forgotten passions...
I am that adventurer in reveries
traveler in silences adorned
with childlike harmonies,
who live in some Mozart symphonies
or the frenzy of an american in Paris...
The people below do not question
on the run of the clouds
and the melody of the rain .
They feel moody ,while waiting
for the last train ...
Poet,you\'re that street conjurer ,
a bit counterfeiter ,
embarking on a journey
with no departure ...
Old fool who believes
in the ambiguous message
of seductive moons ...
child of Mercury ,
prince of neptune ,
hybrid plant of the century...
I was conceived
in the solitary dream
of a prelude for languid satyrs...
The people below ,
wake up to bleak mornings.
Distracted witnesses
to a storylying
where Jehovah is just passing by...
Comforting themselves
with the illusions of a night
when they will longer fall asleep ...
So who knows ?
Will they be touched by the light
and become poets ?