Category Archives: English translation


Filled with courage,
Small advantage;
Big swirl on the fake perch targeted;
Blurred reflection in the broken mirror.
Fill the tank to the top,
Withdrawal without sit down or lie down.

Rain of white handkerchiefs,
No more white mountains;
Boudoir’s life in balance.
No longer enough nightmares.

Diffraction in ten ways;
Said pardon of a thousand saddletree;
Self-management, self-regulation,
Confection, continuation.

No more handkerchiefs,
Rain of mountains,
No more boudoir,
Life of Nightmares

And tangled dreams.
The forest is red;
No turning back,
Infrared vision;
Dry envies in melee
At the crossroads of yesterday.

Caviar, a brilliant hoax,
The squid burns its nectar tuning
His flight ordered free
By the vacuity of the master.

View of the daring mind.
Everything is small, ephemeral.
Too late, like
A horseless rider
Strives itself without ceasing
To save a princess.

Where are the colors?
Where is the prompter?
From laughter to tears,
From cry to rage.

Feel the melancholy in the melody.
The sky is gray since noon;
The “yes” mutates into “maybe”
Before the poet’s destruction.

Golden Tower

From the top of her golden tower,
She passively protests against the Golden Order, and
At the edge of the forest, the poor are ringing the bell.
She believes to elaborate a rope, but
She only condemns them to a death without halo.
She perceives herself in their reflections sent back by a mud-water beaten with blows.

In any case, this is what she says to the ignoramuses.
It’s what she exclaims, but she doesn’t spread much energy.
From now on, she’s on her knees.
It’s heartbreaking, and she’s angry against the old fools.
In any case, this is what she explains selfishly.
It’s painful to light down the deaf who are drowning.
It’s more enviable to veil by living in a sneaky way.

Deep down, in her ivory tower, she no longer sees anything.
Did she once perceive
The monster that has made her so affluent?
She decides not to believe it in order not to fall,
And it’s her choice … Yes, is it her choice?
It’s cruel ; But what isn’t?

Her goldsmith adorns her with audacious ornaments,
And she sometimes leans so one could see her cleavage.
Maybe she can then make them take off?
She no longer unload herself toward the call of the forest;
Replace the string with a whip,
Because it’s the price to pay to isolate herself

At the top of her golden tower.


From the top of his three-masts, the sailor whistled without bitterness.
In the raging storm, all hope seemed to have drowned
Under the waves. And suddenly, a land stood out in the mist.
Him, sorry, misled, torn, could again deploy himself.

And from there, O possible mirage, he thought he had seen a peaceful shore.
Fear was transformed into waiting and relieved his young age.
The tumult exults the occult insult of an uncultivated sultan.
Is he under the yoke of a frenzy? He examines. As a result,
The continent stretches through his astounded globes. Is he betrayed?
What is this infamy which affects the affability of his being and curses it?

Provisional quest, assiduously derisory.
Exciting foil, atoning weir.
Shouldn’t he have drowned himself in the whirlwind of this torrent?
Has he not known this flooded region as a stammering chick?


A little bit of music to perfect the contours.
His heart opens itself perpetually to her as it’s her own.
It’s his, and he offers it without return on a detour.
But he often dies when she ran down other paths.

Let us join hands by indulging in as much time as possible,
Let us offer to each one by showing all the sorrow available.

O despair at the counter!
What is this burglar
Who mulls his ritornello?
The most beautiful creature of the Lord,
So prodigious, so marvelous,
Returns a black mirror.

What is this fear? Him, he only hates himself.
Sometimes he thinks they are more alike than she thinks;
Or is it his spirit that plays tricks on him, O love?
Time collapses and flows away from the crowd.
He’s just trying to live, and he wants her to be part of it.
Because if she’s gone; how can he find harmony?


Thus, he enters into meditation,
And begins the dynamic of creation.
Great sensitivity and compassion;
Thoughts and feelings through observations.

Introspection – Association
Structuring – Composition;
Introspection – Association
Structuration – Composition.

Extreme empathy exalts a shy cyclone.
Knotted, but incredibly quiet.
He suffers from it in face of the typical Cyclop:
All this is only a slight lull.

A magnifying glass intimately amplifying the ego,
Thanks to an ability to concentrate
Which surely reflect itself the evening
Because the peculiarity is aberration.

By prolonging, he confronts experiences.
Peace is rancid after a night of wandering;
Between the turbulence, he has no expectance.
Absence is pure ambivalence and purifies silence.


Since in the city there aren’t many people who cultivate their garden,
I wipe the vile Iliad as a sincere monster who pursues his purpose.
Rebel infantryman of a sad and nameless army who castigates the rascal.
Feline witness of a faded breeze in the shadow, which dazzles the ruler.

When I go outside, it’s always targeted.
I rarely go to places where they want my big banknotes.
Broken ego, terrorize, be oppressed, is beautiful who is.
When I sleep, my body is all crazy, yes it’s
True, nothing soft, you can see my fangs shine.
Equals valued, mold, laughing stock, being high, override, is beautiful who is.

To conform to the norm is to escape from life.
To condemn oneself to death is to get out of it.
Those who formed the standard are all horrible.
This idiot damned to death is even worse.

Otherwise get accustomed. Stop seeing blood clumping;
No more exchanges, to gather.
No longer seize chance, to struggle.
The meaning flows from my nose, I don’t have time to sleep.


Since I’ve been aiming at the sky, I no longer feel very well;
And when I look back, I see the path disappear.
I saw the old monkeys exclaim.
I have no more time to lose with these pious whores.

Since I’ve prayed the sky, I am more serene;
And when my grave will be underground, I think I would have win the Evil.
Know that it’s not sensational without Sartre.
I slap that because they don’t even think in the faculties.

Since I scream in the sky, I’m not going very well.
And when I sink deeper than the earth, I must abandon myself to destiny.
I make myself a reason, the majority of people are too stupid.
Just inaction’s kings, I go away from their prison.

Since I live in the sky, I’m more than good;
A simple look on Earth, and I see the morning escaping.
What must I sacrifice so I may go away?
I saw the Gods laughing for less than that.


I’m working on my forthcoming projects.
What are you doing here away from your master?
You can’t come here if you’re a traitor.
Maybe I can move from here through the window?
What am I doing here besides being?
What are you doing here pretending?

You embarrass me, I don’t
Want your dirt, I don’t
Want your bundles, I don’t
Want your shits.

I want, I want
I want wad
To be able to burn them all;
I don’t want to see the white sirens
Before I can shine.

I go to work without my big projects.
But what are you doing here near your master?
You can’t tumble down here if you’re a traitor.
Maybe I can move from here through the window?
What am I doing here pretending?
What are you doing here pretending?

You’re examining me, I don’t want
Your cyprin, I don’t want
Your son, I don’t want
Your piss.

You’re not old yet but you’re already bent.
Pass me the fire that makes’ em all burn.


My eyelids open and already the flood of thoughts covers me with a veil of dust that reveals itself after another dream of stone.
I saw the end approaching and I wander.
I don’t know if I’m wrong to believe that yesterday is already dead.
I remember looking at this last moment,
Assistant unsuspecting this stagnant present.
Outside, I can hear the birds singing; but soon
A sad music interferes and sends me under the vault.

Here’s a stone immersed in a bottomless well where the farewell falls in disgrace,
Because a succession of seasons flees into the night of ice.
Move away is to cease to exist little by little and to renounce disavowal.
Here is a part of me that is offered to you who dwells in every place and hour.
I know you’re scared, but know that loneliness of spirit also fills my heart.
I learned it in the course of a gloomy anterior stupor
Who will survive beyond this sinister sketch.

Why do I systematically lose myself out of time? Why do I persist as a whimsical person sitting on the frieze?
I sometimes insist with joy, moving away from a certain laziness.
It seems there is almost nothing magical about that tragic day.
The melancholy sun rises and removes the critical doubt that drips:
The tacit liquid passed and I could stop to create.


Universe without master, neither sterile nor fertile.
My reasoned resolution must resonate.
Great resounding resentment that doesn’t bathe
Neither in hatred nor in contempt.

I inspire and exhale.
“All or nothing. Everybody or nobody “.
But the Evil One imprisons me. This grief poisons you.
Each of the grains forms a mountain full of life,
Formation of an infinite world that comes at night,
At the peril of the after or the escape.

Well, I think it’s time.
I smile so that you don’t see me crying.
My revolt gives birth to values.
I’m like Max Scheler.

Go ahead, do the big jump, don’t do anything else.
Go ahead, change channels and look at the same thing.
Go ahead, do the big jump, don’t do anything else.
They can change their chains, they remain the same clones.

Your suicide amazes me so I hibernate
Out of winter as a traveler lost in a foreign world
In a foreign body, in a sense strangled.
In twenty years I have too much cash, but still rebellious.

If I ride a bike, I will pedal too fast.
If you ride a bike, you’re going to pedal in the air …
I’ll not get up early to watch you lifeless.
I say “no”, and I do not expect to escape the absurdity
Of my condition; I have my mission, it is the expression of
The purest regained freedom, rebuff
Under a mask of hope;
Because revolt is no longer a right but a duty.