Was the unfinished word
But a mouth, but a lip,
A breath able to keep its own echo captive?
Now fires as recondite as our rites, smouldering,
Of proud apotheosis are the current ending.
Others may gibe their fill at my spells of silence.
For I know only half of the cryptic sentence.
The rest of the parchment lies in the realm of death.
LE MOT INACHEVE
Le mot inachevé?
Fut-il seulement une bouche, une lèvre,
Capable de retenir son écho?
A présent que s'achèvent les apothéoses
En incendies plus secrets que nos rites.
D'autres pourront gloser sur mes silences.
Je ne possède que la moitié du message.
Le reste du papier tu le trouveras chez les morts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem