En anglais

 

 

 

What reigns is hidden, murmurs, expands and stretches in a slower light. You are the precious body that time once sowed.

And in the water — castle of scattered thoughts — a flower is bursting. Your island fades away and begins again.

A house grows in the still lake with the sky where your dreams dwell and respond to the evening.

 

Frédéric Tison,  La Table d'attente, éd. Librairie-Galerie Racine, collection Les Hommes sans Épaules, 2019, Livre II,  poème XVIII. Traduction de l'auteur, avec quelques retouches par mon amie S*.