Pas l'ailleurs que tu connais
plus loin,
si tu prends de biais
tu entendras le tintement
de la lumière sur le temps
c'est la cloche du portail
qu’il te faudra pousser du doigt
et si le bois en est gonflé
d’une récente nuit de larmes :
de la main ou des deux bras
et si les gonds se sont rouillés
parce que mon cœur s’est endurci :
de tout ton corps
mais attention ! ne perds pas pieds
mon portail ouvre sur le vide
et tu pourrais culbuter
dans un à-pic
où
tout en bas
mon alambic dans les bras
je t'attends devant chez moi
Sylvie M. Miller
février 2010
ELSEWHERE
I live elsewhere
Not the elsewhere that you know,
much further,
if you go sideways
you’ll hear the light tinkle
on time
it’ll be the portal’s bell
which you must push with your finger
and if its wood has swollen up
after a recent night of tears:
push with your hand or with both arms
and if its hinges are rusty
Not the elsewhere that you know,
much further,
if you go sideways
you’ll hear the light tinkle
on time
it’ll be the portal’s bell
which you must push with your finger
and if its wood has swollen up
after a recent night of tears:
push with your hand or with both arms
and if its hinges are rusty
because my heart has hardened,
you must push with all your weight
but beware and do not trip
my portal opens on the void
and you could topple
topsy-turvy
to the very bottom where
holding my still in my arms
I'll wait for you at my door
you must push with all your weight
but beware and do not trip
my portal opens on the void
and you could topple
topsy-turvy
to the very bottom where
holding my still in my arms
I'll wait for you at my door
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