A highly unseasonal poem about snow for today.
À ce flocon
Qui sur ma main se pose, j’ai désir
D’assurer l’éternel
En faisant de ma vie, de ma chaleur,
De mon passé, de ces jours d’à présent,
Un instant simplement: cet instant-ci, sans bornes.
Mais déjà il n’est plus
Qu’un peu d’eau, qui se perd
Dans la brume des corps qui vont dans la neige.
The Bit of Water
To this flake
that perches on my hand, I wish
to grant what is eternal
by making of my life, of my warmth,
of my past, of these days of just now,
a moment simply: this moment, here, and boundless.
But already it's no more
than a bit of water, losing itself
in the fog of bodies passing in the snow.
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