18 octobre 2009
7
18
/10
/octobre
/2009
09:48
Toujours à l'initiative de Celsmoon, voici le dimanche poétique
I felt a funeral in my brain,
And mourners, to and fro,
Kept treading, treading, till it seemed
That sense was breaking through.
And when they all were seated,
A service like a drum
Kept beating, beating, till i thought
My mind was going numb.
And then i heard them lift a box,
And creak across my soul
With those same boots of lead, again.
Then space began to toll
As all the Heavens were a bell,
And Being but an ear,
Ant i and silence some strange race,
Wrecked, solitary, here.
I felt a funeral in my brain,
And mourners, to and fro,
Kept treading, treading, till it seemed
That sense was breaking through.
And when they all were seated,
A service like a drum
Kept beating, beating, till i thought
My mind was going numb.
And then i heard them lift a box,
And creak across my soul
With those same boots of lead, again.
Then space began to toll
As all the Heavens were a bell,
And Being but an ear,
Ant i and silence some strange race,
Wrecked, solitary, here.