On the borderline between outer world and well ordered indoor existence window flowers are doomed to convey deceitful messages in both directions...

Window flowers

Sentries on the threshold of chaos and of night,
Yet poised on hollow sills wherein your growth is kept
So that your bursting out becomes theater set
Made of red, golden, mauve velvet, gargoyles that might
Pour out the subdued and sad anthem of your feasts,

And if humming of bees and perfumes are your speech,
I'll manage to find the false words with which to preach
And the mouth that you strive both to lure and to teach,
Translators of the hidden god, full of deceit.


Gardes au seuil du chaos et de la nuit
Mais équilibres, vos bacs limitent l'essor
Et disposent vos éclosions en décors
Rouges ou d'or, ou velours mauves d'où fuit
Le chant sourd et triste de vos fêtes,

Et si vous parlez par guêpes et senteurs
Je saurai bien retrouver les mots menteurs
Et la bouche que vous leurrez, traducteurs
Infidèles du secrêt prophète.

Poetry by Michel Galiana
Read 1226 times
Written on 2008-06-18 at 14:24

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