Wednesday, June 27, 2012


(Rene Magritte, La Corde Sinsible)


I’ve been passing by marks of ropes
Counting ant-hills in my sleep
I’ve decomposed a certain beauty
And I’ve built a corridor on its remnants.

It adorned me once
With a constant repetition of feelings
I’ve carried on whistleblowing madly
To an indelible bulk
Just a drop of sea
In the rivers I’ve surfeited
In their springs I’ve been bred
I don’t remember any fairies
Trouts I’ve accompanied
But I haven’t been with the seamen in their

I’ve been offering water at various tables
The mute wine I’ve given away
I’ve rambled through the children’s laughter
In their mothers’ prayers I’m going to sleep

Can I pass Lady Mary or cannot I?
If I manage it I will flee
Get shackled my soul to any rock you want
And again break free and carry away
Whoever you can


(written in 1991)

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