Gare de Lyon

Gare de Lyon, Paris (Français, English)

Sous le regard automatique de la grande horloge,
les gens se retrouvent et se séparent.
Elle qui a tant vu, ne sais plus lire les visages.
Pourtant, je l’ai vu hésiter une fraction de seconde
lorsque j’ai serré mon fils dans mes bras.

Under the automatique gaze of the big clock,
people meet and part.
The clock has seen so much, it can no longer read faces.
And yet, I saw it hesitate for a fraction of a second
when I held my son in my arms.


When I smell the fragrance of the blossoms

When I smell the fragrance of the blossoms,
millions of years rush inside of me –
speeding planets,
flashes of blinding lights,
galaxies forming in twirls of dust,
a drop of water as atoms collide.

Time eternal
and gentle
emerging through seeds and flowers.

Fragrance –
the rush of life
exhaling from its depth,
beauty unabashed,
because it can.

When I smell the fragrance of the blossoms,
I am one with the very essence of life
because I can –
because it is.