Dana Banu

je me suis arrêtée ici et j’ai regardé par-dessus l\'épaule l’enfance avec le pain distribué par ration l’adolescence avec le sarrau et le ruban blanc et la mort de Lie ma première jeunesse hurlant

friend let’s separate us from the yellow leaves to fly with all our wettish insubstantial bitter-sweet life until beyond the border of the blunt reclaimed feelings we will raise above the fir

you can look in the eyes of a dead man you can talk to him you can creep him after through life even if they always say that we live in a flawed world they are wrong Mutti they are wrong they

motto: “and they were dickering in white word for summer the very split thought of the man that didn’t know how to die with frail voice of the one that died his light towards far away” – Elian

are you alone? It’s ok between eyelashes world can be seen better when you don’t know about the closer shoulder blink a lot and be quiet the light is long the road is too short you’d like to be

a huge common pothole on whom edge the transported convicts wait a sign from us and we no and no and no we stay stealthy in a soil clod tick tack tick tack says the clock of an un-detonated

*** the annoying light which sometimes in the evening falls asleep on my shoulder is yours those golden and stupid shoes worn out only once sometime long time ago useless in a province railway

With a reflex I draw the shutters / some people say that death always comes with the evening train/ as if one lonely day will happen the same endlessly / some say that we are a huge body of our

Iann connaît le mystère des pierres des coquillages vifs et des eaux gelées il accroche des nuits aux lunes rondes et vides en plein jour aux fenêtres à la vue vers le nord je me l\'imagine marin

tu peux te dire c\'est pas grave j\'ai de l\'argent j\'écrit des poésies je les récite je suis toujours loin tout près il n\'y a rien tu peux te dire c’est le hasard qui nous a

sur la vitre de la fenêtre je dessine une gare bleue un train miniature (il a bien-sûr une locomotive à vapeur) une montagne le sac à dos plein de neige la porte fermée les lumières