On ironing days,
In the house that sleeps,
The good is not wise
But we still keep it.
It was found last night,
Behind the wooden door,
With a colander
Giving oneself joy.
The beard of grandfather
Rebuilt everything
But the good angry
Nearly bit him
It rains on the slates,
It rains on the farmyard,
It rains on the raspberries,
It's raining on my love.
I hide under the table.
The cat claws a little.
This tiger is indomitable
And plays with fire.
Grandma's Slippers
Died before nightfall.
Let's sleep in my cottage.
Sleep, let's sleep quietly.
Cradling cradle of the violets,
An angel has hidden
In the closet with vials
Where I'm lying down.
Remedy for the common cold,
Remedy for the heart,
Remedy for mist,
Remedy for misfortune.
The Revenge of Storms
Made of the house
A tender landscape
For boys
Who are burning with impatience
Two days before Christmas
And, without any suspicion,
Accept everything, pell-mell:
Life, death, squares
And electric trains,
Tears in the stations,
Guignol and the trikes,
The acetylene nozzles
Assisted Children
And the smile of Helen
On a beautiful summer evening.
Give me four boards
To make me a coffin.
He fell off the branch,
The nice squirrel.
I did not like my mother.
I did not like my fate.
I did not like war.
I did not like death.
I never knew how to say
Why I was distracted.
I did not know how to smile
To such and such attraction.
I was alone on the roads
Without saying yes or no.
My soul has dissolved.
Dust was my name.