Bolerondo

Carried away in the endless rondo,

passers-by, abstentees and returnees,

departed inviting the living 

to enter the quadrille !

Sweetness of spring memories

which have not  yet faded ,

burning in the hearth of regrets...

Scorching  fiery fandango

torn souls, red  tango 

solemn blue requiem ...

What has become 

of the merry tarentella's child ?

Gardens of the sublime city 

suspended in the clouds of history ...

Son of Babel has lost the key 

in the myriad of sand stars .

 Solar courtiers have donned

the tunic of Prussia ,

their names engraved 

in the ashes of  the camp fires..

 Get in on the dance ! 

Princes and peasants ,

nun heavenly mother 

of Satan's work ! 

Bishop loved by the skeleton ...

Flesh travelers reincarnated as stones,

lying  in nameless dimensions 

and for which no one praying anymore...

This gravity in the voice of the void 

so profound fulness ,round madness,

spectral amplitude trained 

by a bolero crescendo ...