At First Sight
At first sight, I miss God,
When I think of my father,
Of the primroses in bloom,
When I feed the blinding sun,
Drying up, all the rivers.
I miss God,
When I don’t understand
The purity of the azure,
When I repeat words
In a foreign language,
I miss God,
When I go to Cavale Blanche Hospital,
That I hear screams,
Of suffering persons
Or mad of love?
I miss God
When I write poems,
That no one says,
For friends, or fairies,
In bombed churches
I miss God,
When I walked in Bordeaux,
Without knowing you,
Without being able to count on him,
On the merry ghosts,
I miss God
When I see the bee again
Wasting time on the flower,
When I forget Sevastopol,
Marilyne, and Bernadette.
At first sight, I miss God,
When I leave Tuscany,
When I ask Eluard, Picasso,
Or see the swallows in a hurry
Run away from my country.
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