There are clowns with colored smiles
That laugh to hide how much it hurts them
Trapeze artists with neckties and of misters
And buffoons like plagues in the television
In the circus what bores entertains you
There are doggies giving leaps like fools
And elephants directing a ministry
Assassins with nice nicknames
Motorcycle acrobats and cemetery
In the circus if it does not kill it is a remedy
Pamperings without liberty
The soul dies if your a marionette
Circus of loneliness
The crisis retired another poet
Truths that bring tricks in the suitcase
Characters that so much love the proletariat
That become magicians if you multiply them
Hunchbacks like good dromedaries
To hide what Sunday purifies
In the circus if you are near they splash/splatter you
There will always be a good tamer for the one who will let themselves be tamed
And harlequins that lend themselves to buy them
There is the tiger that eats whoever complains
And the horse that you pet to mount
In the circus the one who thinks you should scare
Pamperings without liberty
The soul dies if you are a marionette
Circus of loneliness
The crisis retried another poet
The circus survives with pirouettes
Be you the fire-thrower or the buffoon
Whom throws the knives or the fakir
Be you the ticket-seller or the owner
Or the one whom squashes the others to rise
Pamperings without liberty
The soul dies if you are a marionette
The crisis retired another poet
And a child receiving the post