Vers d’amour
Tu gardes dans tes yeux la volupté des nuits,
O Joie inespérée au fond des solitudes !
Ton baiser est pareil à la saveur des fruits
Et ta voix fait songer aux merveilleux préludes
Murmurés par la mer à la beauté des nuits.
Tu portes sur ton front la langueur et l’ivresse,
Les serments éternels et les aveux d’amour,
Tu sembles évoquer la craintive caresse
Dont l’ardeur se dérobe à la clarté du jour
Et qui te laisse au front la langueur et l’ivresse.
— Renée Vivien, Cendres et Poussières, 1902.
“ Mirrors are ice which do not melt: what melts are those who admire themselves in them.”
— Paul Morand
“Someone had told him one day that you forget the voices of those whom you have been close to in the past very quickly.”
— Patrick Modiano
It was a cold morning,
it was the first awakening over those sheets,
there was coffee ready to fill our bodies,
there were aged buildings to fill our soul.
We walked the town,
we crossed their streets,
we felt alive.
There were crowded sites,
there were empty alleys,
there was food at each corner,
there was wine in our veins.
We were there,
side by side,
there we were happy,
there we were alive.
Rome, Italy, 2017.
to help me to remember what I felt,
to feel that sense of peace and calm,
to fill the need inside,
to feel alive again,
the courage, the fear,
the tears and the joy,
the silence and my own words.
Demain, dès l’aube, à l’heure où blanchit la campagne,
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m’attends.
J’irai par la forêt, j’irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps.
— Victor Hugo
