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Winter nights are pushing us
out of our comfort zones:
warm hearts, heated rooms.
I abandoned both,
I am walking alone through dark streets,
the cold goes into my bones.

Uncounted billions of stars guide me on my paths.
Those silent companions, caught in time,
have been trembling in the deep space since eternity.
I am looking for my ancient gods,
those I chased away by my lechery.
It was my biggest crime.

So I am desolate now, then,
suffering for my sins in an endless reality.
This night is never going to its end.
I’v been frozen in time space since I don’t know when.
There is no young prince whom rescues me by his kiss.
All of them are avoiding my personality.

I'm cold, I'm on my knees with silent pray.
My dark heart beats slowly
as snow flakes are falling from the sky.
But only my demons are listening to my rogations,
they follow me on my desperate way.
I am too weak for any negations.

Even the street lights get dark.
The fear forces them to hide the street in the cloak of night,
to avoid this strange black suite.
Stars are only lighting the firmament, far away in safety space.
The darkness has swallowed everything
No one can see my crooked face.

I'm sitting tired on the tombstone
of my ancient god’s grave.
No man, this empty grave is mine.
I buried my heart there.
But the light of hope peeks from afar,
I still should be saved, come on!
Return to me and bring me the light my Apollon.
La cathédrale est majestueuse

Que j'imagine en pleine campagne

Sur quelque affluent de quelque Meuse

Non **** de l'Océan qu'il regagne,


L'Océan pas vu que je devine

Par l'air chargé de sels et d'arômes.

La croix est d'or dans la nuit divine

D'entre l'envol des tours et des dômes.


Des Angélus font aux campaniles

Une couronne d'argent qui chante ;

De blancs hibous, aux longs cris graciles,

Tournent sans fin de sorte charmante ;


Des processions jeunes et claires

Vont et viennent de porches sans nombre,

Soie et perles de vivants rosaires,

Rogations pour de chers fruits d'ombre.


Ce n'est pas un rêve ni la vie,

C'est ma belle et ma chaste pensée,

Si vous voulez ma philosophie,

Ma mort choisie ainsi déguisée.

— The End —