samedi 29 avril 2017
The Hermit, Cobra mangeant l'oiseau du matin
Queene of faeries had a fever
one knight of the woods had it seen
and the tears for the queene were abondant
hearing the music of deep whispers
there at the bed of grass
and him in the smoking window
given in a crowd of castles and hard temples.
Nothing was deadly this time
cleaned by tears the moon was giving a cut of sun
greater portraits promising to night
so the knight was in contemplation of queene's sleep.
Travelling to the tropics of triolism
even by head
made them queene and servant
loose all force not strong enough to break the chains of this new monster
wich is announced by an innocent fever
and whose face is void.
His helmet was a masterpiece
of dancing hammers of devil.
His name was Useful, and the servant prefered nudity without target.
Awake adored queene and restored
in coolness of mind by the travel on the moon
be careful of this monster dishaped
and cloudy, put your golden helmet and take your arrow.
Prepared to attain remote hearts this wheapon of female
goddesses is given to your fight, wich is prompt to come from fever.
You are no more in the land of southern, to believe in sirens,
be yourself supernatural in the appropriate battle.
This strange destiny of taking part in the supper of giants and cyclops,
scared by their panther speaking, this destiny who has made you my queene.
This night where every servant has disappeared like melting snow.
Which battle is this that hurts as tough as madness ?
Seemingly this giants are linked by panthereness to the enemy.
Seemingly travel to tropics has made you
desired by sun and sun is in its tropic an unshaped monster.
( the following track is a poetic performance in Paris by Juliette Bagouet et Manuel Montero )