It was the voice of mad seas, roaring immense,/ That shattered your infant breast, too soft, too human.

It began as research. I wrote of silences, of nights, I scribbled the indescribable. I tied down the vertigo.

The northern lights rise like a kiss to the sea

But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.

What is my nothingness to the stupor that awaits you?

Then you'll feel your cheek scratched... A little kiss, like a crazy spider, Will run round your neck... And you'll say to me : "Find it !" bending your head - And we'll take a long time to find that creature - Which travels a lot.

I went out under the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal.