In spite of time a memory is still alive

Translated from the French


My fingers' work helps you to link on your stitches.
A robe of time clothed me to the hips already.
Your funeral is held each time the sun rises.
When the sun sets I doubt whether morning will be.

I thought the threads you spun were some spider's alike
Which mimic a rampart but vanish in the air.
But if my delusion from my fingers takes flight,
My dreams have forged for me a solid iron jail.


Au labeur de mes doigts vous allongez vos mailles.
Une robe de temps jusqu'aux hanches me tient.
Les fêtes du matin disent vos funérailles.
Le soleil qui descend ne connaît de demain.

Je pensais que vos fils étaient d'aragnes folles
Qui miment des remparts et s'effacent dans l'air.
Si mes illusions entre mes doigts s'envolent,
Les songes m'ont forgé une cage de fer.

Poetry by Michel Galiana
Read 1196 times
Written on 2007-12-08 at 18:24

Tags Memory  Love  Galiana 

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