Angels and devils share their images
between meetings.
Everyone engages in their own tour
attempting to transcript the environment,
their vision of Paradise, their vision of Hell.
Some have old film 36 single exposures,
others have progressed and digitized
their records. The subjects are varied,
but the traversed territories join between
the ethereal and the volcanic.
Monuments and crosses in both all figure
on contact sheets. Their habitat is one of
common concerns: the cloud,
its square yards.
The abyss with its plasma, its depth.
It is the home that has been
much photographed.
But so is also the place of life.
Its hallways, common areas.
Its private quarters.
The family. In other words the home-
real or imaginary as in a dream.
Because both angels and devils dream.
Through sometimes stolen moments,
Heaven as well as Hell are very present.
The angels and the devils workshop
is seen as a moment of breathing.
Time, parallel to the ongoing struggle
for their integration. Construction time,
reflection and exchange
in which everyone freely expresses
their sensitivity,
beyond the language barrier.
A time to mend.
~~~
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem