The night of the hippogriph III

the wind blew in the orchard of golden apples
and fell sick before sunrise


only a grain of sand was enough
to make the unicorn invisible
except for its heart


the eyes of the archaeopteryx
always reflect the mundane image
of seas from the sky
while the hippogryph
tired of being alone
sleeps with wings unfolded ahead


every night lifts sand dunes
and leaves the story of unknown journeys
to the one wearing a single eye
in the crown of the head


once upon a time
there was a hippogryph on a rock
and this view is not given to just anyone




tout sauf ton coeur = everything but your heart

(translated into English by Luminita Suse)

La nuit de l’hippogriffe III