Home > Work > Fureur et Mystère
1 " In the streets of the town goes my love. Small matter whereshe moves in divided time. She is no longer my love, anyone may speak with her. She remembers no longer: who exactly loved her?She seeks her equal in glances, pledging. The space she traversesis my faithfulness. She traces a hope and lightly dismisses it.She is dominant without taking part.I live in her depth, a joyous shipwreck. Without her knowing,my solitude is her treasure. In the great meridian where her soaringis inscribed, my freedom delves deep in her.In the streets of the town goes my love. Small matter whereshe moves in divided time. She is no longer my love, anyone mayspeak with her. She remembers no longer: who exactly loved her,and lights her from afar, lest she should fall?from ”Fidelity "
― René Char , Fureur et Mystère
2 " The oriole entered the capital of dawn. The sword of his song closed the sad bed.Everything forever ended. "
