Original Title: "Le Convoi"
Year: 2012
They are going forward heavily in the morning that appears suddenly
The road opens up like a wound
that closes up again in their path
And that they open up like a wound
At the foot of big dams, they stop and fall asleep
They dream of fruits and berries
Of coal laid under open-air fire
They dream of fruits and berries.
Soon, soon, you will see them
Like a river birthing to the bright day
Soon, you will see the convoy
And you will be scared of love.
They exchange signs
Like words in an unknown language
From a country that meants nothing
And whose history got lost.
They walk on the corridor
Of a long-term time
They do not flee but they train themselves
to hold the reins of that time
Soon, soon, you will see them
Like a river birthing to the bright day
Soon, you will see the convoy
And you will be scared of love.
People say "The tiredness will kill them, death
is nothing else but the other name of the path they took"
But nothing says, no, nothing says
by looking at them, that they are still alive
Even if they walk and smile at each other
Even if they dream of fruits and berries
That they open the road like a wound
Nothing tell us, no, that they are still alive.
Soon, soon, you will see them
Like a river birthing to the bright day
Soon, you will see the convoy
And you will be scared of love.
Love is the big uncle that leads the convoy
It's the untenable promise, the absolute uncertainty
It's the miracle of a sleep bound to the miracle of the streets
That, inflamed with the same momentum are rising;
A sole hand for guide, the road does not lie
The road will never lie
Wherever she leads, to those who joined the convoy
The road tells everything it knows.
Soon, soon, you will see them
Like a river birthing to the bright day
Soon, you will see the convoy
And you will be scared of love.
It's an immense strength, it's irrigation itself
The flow of blood of the deads that reopens the fountains
The valves that turned, the canals that let everything go through
The most turbid fluids, the saltiest waters.
It's that dreamed burden that leads them and that slows down
The advance of the convoy, the steps are so loaded:
So many efforts to feel flow in ones veins
the flow of blood of the deads reviving the fountains.
Some give way on the way; the road closes back
on them, made up with grass and night;
They dream again and the dream preserves them
They are nor alive nor dead
They are of the shadow that goes pale
Because outside of the convoy
There is no hope to lose
No gaze to capture
No alveolus bathed with light
Out of the convoy
Time is a crumpled note
A bank with frozen assets
A sedentary journey
And there, now, you see them
Like a river birthing to the bright day
And you slip into the convoy
Scared to die from love.
And you slip into the convoy
In the river that carries everything away
A road opens up in front of you
That will close up behind us
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