Donatien Moisdon

Lost in foliage where gold from Heaven sinks
move, search and stare cold, calculating eyes.

A beast unknown landed from outer space
...

As life is drained away from me, and heart-beat
weakens with every day, and as reality
collapses in a heap,
a worn out tune will try to bring back memories
...

Quercy, "Big Sky Country",
holiday memory.

Under frozen stars,
...

With its snow and its howling wind
my forest bites me to the bone.

My house creaks with its every beam.
...

So I shall have to leave this old village
half hidden in the haze of a pink aurora.

Last cool breath of the night before a scorching day.
...

Brown and green, skinny stalks,
poplars, infinity...
Far away and fragile,
shimmering, hazy light.
...

Steel voices rape the air,
shake spires and crack stones
till, dreamily, do some
fall on crowded plazas
...

In echoing metallic emptiness
of international air terminals
I often saw her, hurrying,
incredibly pretty, impossible
...

Dirt roads and rotting fallen leaves
glisten and grizzle underfoot.

Grey nights, icy tears of rain
...

Suddenly, all efforts spanning grey afternoons,
through taut fingers seem worthwhile, at long last,
and slaughter Indifference.
...

...

...

Shops of happiness

I'll work in the workshop,
and sing in the sing shop,
...

This is to Klinck, my dog,
loving without question
and forgiving without an afterthought.
...

Sleepy landscapes, clear in front of me!

Absence of lawnmowers and children’s wails.
...

She may hold me tight in her arms
but, like an arctic wolf, I wander through the cold.

She may hold me dear in her heart
...

Mad look in the eyes of the god,
when his spread out and wounded limbs
drip blood on our frightened world...
...

Suckle on rocky shore, beloved Atlantic,
bellow through ghostly fog at tipsy fishermen,
howl for hours on gorse and broom and heathered cliffs.
...

In the fog
a black dog
on the white,
frosty grass
...

I can feel in myself a monster wielding knives
and a few black curtains shielding insanity.

There dwells a murderer gloating on sufferings,
...