A memory of Haute-Provence
This is the point where the last bend
is leading into the clouds
at the end of the world, at the end of time.
Let us realize
that we have exceeded the last frontier.
Kingdom of chimaerae,
you are waiting for us ...
And here the voice of the wind is singing a song
which is lost behind the horizon –
in the land of dragons.
This is the region reigned only
by the memory of ages past,
and the past, gone long ago,
that has left the surrounding world,
has amassed here and is silently waiting
until the night, the sister of abandonment
will conquer the canyons.
This is the place where my soul
disperses between the spiky edges.
I let go of my troubles and endow myself
of all the false hopes of my life:
may the night release me
from all I have lost
and betrayed ...
This is the point allowing the passage
beyond the clouds,
to the end of all, the end of nothing –
but I return:
I will never cross the extremes.
Phantom of myself,
I remember –
that it is you, the voice of the wind: dance back there,
disappear beyond the horizon,
in the land of dragons.
Crystal 2001