The Cage Poem by Michel Galiana
The Cage
My fingers' work helps you to link on your stitches.
A robe of time clothed me to the hips already.
Your funeral is held each time the sun rises.
When the sun sets I doubt whether morning will be.
I thought the threads you spun were some spider's alike
Which mimic a rampart but vanish in the air.
But if my delusion from my fingers takes flight,
My dreams have forged for me a solid iron jail.
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4/25/2024 6:27:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
LA CAGE Au labeur de mes doigts vous allongez vos mailles. Une robe de temps jusqu'aux hanches me tient. Les fêtes du matin disent vos funérailles. Le soleil qui descend ne connaît de demain. Je pensais que vos fils étaient d'aragnes folles Qui miment des remparts et s'effacent dans l'air. Si mes illusions entre mes doigts s'envolent, Les songes m'ont forgé une cage de fer. Michel Galiana (c) 2006