délester la tête
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à chaque printemps
Archives par mot-clé : abeltasman
#2099 if I were… a painter
I would tell the water
its movements
its blues and the sand
then the shadows of clouds
riding on its back
then the morning light
and the afternoon's
then I would start again
#2099 si j’etais… peintre (1)
je raconterais l’eau
ses mouvements
son bleu et le sable
l’ombre des nuages
passant sur son dos
puis la lumière du matin
et de l’après-midi
puis je recommencerais
winding path
to follow it you had to look differently, one step at a time, one step in front of you, feeling the sun, knowing it was there and asking for nothing more, making an effort, again, to look differently, but everything was fine, everything would be fine, today, then we would do it all over again. you thought it was beautiful
we were humming together
and you thought it beautiful
and the letters of the words
they brushed against the skin
but the strange feelings
that make the heart heavy drawn in
broad lines in the sand
would disappear with the evening tide
then holding hands
we walked slowly
there was only the truth
at the end of the path.