Daybreak (aube) wakes up
and life that procession parades
fall the snow
the dancer (female) wakes up, flexes
me, I go by foot
from my bed to my table there's no bus
to think (say) that I'm gonna stay
all day
sitting
Noon already
and life that ride goes around
noise of forks
all the leftovers that they throw away
are for me
then comes the evening
the lovers in the closet
that inspirse me
to think that I'm gonna
spend the whole night sitting
It is altogether sad
to be screwed (bolted) to your chair at my age
like an old english woman
a mummy, an hostage
yes I'm hostage to my head
everything I see in my window
moves in it (my head)
its not my (fete =party, faute =fault) if I'm all the time
sitting
You butterfly nailed
one beautiful summer night to my page
you torn lover
laying on the paper well behaved
its my turn look
I have a voice to sing
I have feet to run
I'm not going to stay all my life
writing