in my hammock

I was better off in my hammock, at the heart of the Amazon, That rue Saint Marc, or rue Jules Guesde, without flames My only enemies were mosquitoes and pirhanas, Not the bakers, the students or the vanitous drunk, I was better thinking of couroupitas or guaranas, (1) In my hammock at the heart of the great Amazon, sleeping I had seen the banana sellers, simple people like me, Not journalists, principals or pretentious factors, I was better in my hammock at the heart of the Amazon, Everything was silent as in a transparent cathedral Two or three friends were sleeping by my side in the jungle, We could dream of black caracaras, aracaris blues,(2) (1) these are plants from the Amazon (2) these are birds from the Amazon