Les Ruches Malades - Amesoeurs

Flnant au pied des ruches grises,

Je lve les yeux

Vers un ciel qui de son bleu

Inhabit me cloue terre;

Plus absent que moi encore…

Dans la vie que je mne

Chaque jour se ressemble

Et gupe parmi gupes,

J’ai offert mes ailes

Aux bons plaisirs des reines imbciles.

La nuit et ses lueurs glaciales

Ont transform la ruche malade

En un beau palais de cristal;

Puis au petit matin,

Le soleil dvoile les plaies obscnes

De ces mgapoles tentaculaires

Don’t le venin et les puanteurs

Ettouffent et violent les mes

Qu’elles gardent en leur sein.

Lounging at the foot of the gray beehives,

I look up

Towards a sky that of its blue

Inhabit nails me to the ground;

Even more absent than me...

In the life I lead

Every day is the same

And wasp among wasps,

I offered my wings

To the good pleasures of foolish queens.

The night and its icy glows

Have transformed the sick hive

In a beautiful palace of crystal;

Then in the early morning,

The sun unveils the obscene wounds

Of these sprawling cities

Don't the venom and the stinks

Smother and violate my souls

That they keep within.