O Moon of my sleepless nights
(Translation into English of the Occitan Sonnet written in French. See original here or here)
19 June 2016
The desert heat prevents not cold in the Heart
From a Time of innocence, I keep fresh instants
Of running in green meadows before rancour time
When deliquescence act begat fruit of sourness
A song of Prévert revives in me outcry
Of an untroubled Time alongside years of happiness
Singing open-hearted I collect the tears
Of thousand nights of existence of lives red like flowers
O Moon of my sleepless nights in your silvery dresses
Do you see the deadly traces of our wounded lovemaking?
My memory fails me from too many souls travelled
The tired lives are stacking up in upright walls prepared
Scaffold where one slices the necks with the bluish lines
Dead Tides chorus for hurried soothsayers
Reading of the poem:
Sois tranquille – Emmanuel Moiré
Sans dire un mot – Emmanuel Moiré
Beau malheur – Emmanuel Moiré
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