Exile
Exile
(Loose translation of Jean Follain)
In the evenings they listen
To music no one would call happy
A new face appears
At a turning point in the known world
The roses flutter open
A bell rings under an overcast sky
Between the pillars of the porch
Sits a man in a gray velvet suit
Who tells everyone who approaches
Showing them the palms of his hands
As long as I live no one touches
My dogs my friends