Revival

That morning, I tied the butterflies to the ark And reddened my beard, To be able to speak about the lurid land In which I had been exiled Two semesters per year; As many years As the lashes I tear down from my eyelids. I flew over rivers of milk, Over the orbits of the earth, Over the charm of the poppy-field, Over devils, (those sulphur auras on trees) Over the three statues of the gates, Of the nights blackened inside me. The relics of the decadent civilisations Have been removed by the: - Liberty of rotation of the two axes - - Sincerity of expression at the mental level- - Dower of the blessed spark - As if the primordial twinkle The principle of fertility, Gave birth on Earth. In my palm I raised you to the skies Listening to your harmonious verse, Alike the golden clock of Time, Placing you Luminary Of my never-ending travels To you.