Image source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Villon_Francois_2.JPG
Je meurs de seuf auprés de la fontaine ... I die of thirst beside the fountainhead, and am least seen where most I am displayed. Shadows are my substance. I am paid in ghostly coin to counterfeit the dead. Under a sagging sky, my dreams are fed on winds blown far from lands where time has ceased, in which alone still lives a present, pieced together from the leavings of instead. Where most my strength is needed, force has fled, and those I’ve aided offer me no aid, and wanting’s self is caged by having, weighed down hopelessly in place by wings of lead. Where most I hunger, I am nourished least, a silent specter famished at the feast. -------------------------------------------------------------
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