shadows rushing in dark gardens,

a breathless fall into abysmal waiting;

scent of blood and rotten apples in the air;

my father’s ghost rides a spider-horse

and pierces the night with a shimmering arrow;

his eyes are closed but his purple lips move:

“we must dissent from apathy,

we must dissent from fear,” he whispers 

into the white cups of the lilies;

roses tremble, starlings fall from the sky,

butterflies melt on the cold leaves.

a sinkhole opens at my feet.

“forgive my transgression -

shadows must not speak,” he repents

under the bloated moon.

road of no return, receive my father

the pale, the restless, the brave.

if only he knew! they never saw me;

they only saw what i can do for them;

father, i am afraid no more.

the vessel is frail

but the wave everlasting -

behold the kingdom of god:

silence, bright quasars, expanding void.

je rêve d’un monde uni, fraternel, juste…

i’m ready to travel as far as it takes

to discover it, i know it in my heart…

from the sky dark water pours

over the meadow, over the villages;

rivers overflow and swallow the roads;

anchors have come adrift;

my little mud cottage was carried away

and all there was in it broke and scattered …

perhaps i’ll have to postpone my voyage

until the moon rises above the waters

and beckons me to come out of hiding.

the message was important but the dawn devoured it

with its livid mouth.

the torn hem of the dream congealed, blood-red, on the pillow.

“le soleil est perdu!” chimes the clock.

wake up! wake up!

deep in the heart of the day, 

deep in your heart, 

the truth is more terrifying than the story.