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I heard the voice of the well, I approached the curb, There was black sooty, It was probably your call. As a low message From the depths, The narrow circle of the shipwreck, From your former splendor ... I bent, but not for drinking, There was at the bottom, a clear round, Lost in all this black, May be you'll hope I come to you, That, I lost balance, And I'm drowning, To make you free, So I will take your place, For real, I'll watch the clouds go by, Of the small round hole. Occasionally, your image, Will bent without regret, To evoke my face, Hidden under the glares. You come down the bucket, That will plunge below the surface, I'll give this taste to the water, As if it were from ice. You will drink to my health, Warming my soul, With a little tea : Waiting is not a drama. You've waited years That returns this day : No one is damned ... At each his own turn ... - RC May 2015 - J'ai entendu la voix du puits, Je me suis approché de la margelle, Il y faisait un noir de suie, C'était sans doute ton appel. Comme un faible message, Venant des profondeurs, Le cercle étroit du naufrage, De ton ancienne splendeur... Je me suis penché, mais pas pour boire, Il y avait au fond, un rond clair, Perdu dans tout ce noir, C'est peut-être que tu espères Que je vienne à toi , Que je perde l'équilibre, Et que je me noie, Afin te rendre libre, Ainsi je prendrai ta place, Pour de bon, Je regarderai les nuages qui passent, Par le petit trou rond. De temps en temps, ton image, Se penchera sans regret, Pour évoquer mon visage, Caché sous les reflets. Tu descendras le seau, Qui plongera sous la surface, Je donnerai ce goût à l'eau , Comme si elle venait de la glace. Tu boiras à ma santé, En faisant réchauffer mon âme, Avec un peu de thé ; Attendre n'est pas un drame . Tu as patienté des années, Que revienne le jour, Personne n'est damné... A chacun son tour … - RC- mai 2015
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