I have shown you La Petite-Pierre, the dowry its forest provides and the sky being born in its branches.
The expanse of birds there that prey on other birds,
A pollen come twice to life under the blazing of flowers,
A tower hoisted on the horizon like a pirate’s sail,
The lake once more a cradle for the mill and, for the infant, sleep.
There where my belt of snow was wearying me,
Under the lintel of a rock stippled with crows,
I have left the need for winter.
Today we love one another with neither lineage nor the life to come,
Ardent or retiring, different but together,
Turning from the stars whose nature it is to fly without attaining.
The vessel is on course for the vegetal high seas.
All lights extinguished, it takes us on board.
We had been up since before dawn in its memory.
It sheltered our childhood years, ballasted our golden age,
The called for, the traveling host for as long as we uphold its truth.
[MH]