#PoetryTakeMeAway
Yes, this world is flat, and as for the other one, mere lies.
Hopelessly I go meekly to my fate;
to kill time, waiting for death,
I smoke thin cigarettes in the face of the gods.
Come on, living ones, hurry, or future skeletons.
As for me, the blue meander that twists towards the sky
sinks me into an infinite ecstasy and lulls me
like the dying scents of a thousand burners.
And I enter the blooming Eden of clear dreams,
where elephants in heat intertwine with the dim
dance of mosquitoes, in fanciful waltzes.
And when then, thinking of my verses, I stir,
I contemplate, my heart full of sweet joy, my dear
thumb roasted like a goose leg.
In short, I was about to give myself with a I love you,
when I noticed, not without sorrow,
that before anything else I did not possess myself well.
Thus a poor, wretched individual
who believes in his Self only when itās convenient,
I saw my half vanish,
carried away by the course of things,
just as the thorn sees its best rose
falling apart, on the pretext that it is evening.
Jules Laforgue "La Sigaretta"
