• A Poet

    I do not always go alone to the bottom of myself.
    I drag more than one live being with me.
    Can those who are made to enter my cold caves... more »

  • Figures

    I shuffle faces like cards
    in spite of myself, and all
    are dear to me. Sometimes
    one falls to the ground... more »

  • Fish

    Fish with your slow memories in deep creeks,
    what can I do here with these? I know nothing
    of you, except a little foam and shadow... more »

  • He Alone

    If you touch his hand, it's without knowing.
    You remember him, but under another name.
    In the middle of the night, in your deepest sleep
    you say his real name and invite him to stay.... more »

  • Homage To Life

    It’s good to have chosen
    A living home
    And housed time
    In a ceaseless heart... more »

  • In a Foreign Country

    Have these faces come from my memory
    and have these gestures touched earth, or sky?
    Is this man alive as he seems to believe
    with his voice, and this smoke on his lips?... more »

  • Nocturne en plein jour

    Quand dorment les soleils sous nos humbles manteaux
    Dans l'univers obscur qui forme notre corps,
    Les nerfs qui voient en nous ce que nos yeux ignorent... more »

  • Prophecy

    One day the Earth will be
    just a blind space turning,
    night confused with day.... more »