A Jean-Max Toubeau
Le scorpion fossile meurt encore sur la brèche de l’été
Sade (Sad pour moi)
Deux fois ressuscité sous le désordre des pierres
Ne s’accoude plus à la nuit de Vaucluse
Il voyage dans la parole
Alors que sa demeure n’est plus qu’un calque
Sa présence l’ombre oblique sur une dalle
Qui gagne sur la nuit.
Pas d’événements à venir
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A wonderful serenity has taken possession of my entire soul, like these sweet mornings of spring which I enjoy with my whole heart. I am alone, and feel the charm of existence in this spot, which was created for the bliss of souls like mine. I am so happy, my dear friend, so absorbed in the exquisite sense of mere tranquil existence, that I neglect my talents. I should be incapable of drawing a single stroke at the present moment; and yet I feel that I never was a greater artist than now.
Hommage à Jean Fanchette