Who is screaming?
No one
Just a cry,
in the night
Towards the evening,
in the morning
It's nothing
It's just a cry, nothing but turbulence
One of those poor cries that silence is made of
Cry of the locomotives on the curves of the rail
And the cry of the cat in heat scratching at the air vent
Cry of the flowers that you pick of the grass that you tread
Cry under our blind footsteps of tiny crowds
Who is shouting?
No one
Almost no one
Is it a man or a dog
Almost nothing
It's just a woman screaming between her kids
In front of her men? land that we hit? blow from the butt
The dream of a sad tiger in the winter circus
Waking up the boulevard of the girls of the clavaire
The old woman that a brat follows and who suddenly attacks
Him his pension by stealing his bag
The girl screaming that she's being tortured
And slumping obscenely in the middle of the cars
The voice of the people who laugh and applaud
The crackling bouquet of the great fireworks
Who is shouting?
No one
Close your door
Close your heart
Your ears
Play dead
Do nothing
Shut up your reason which whines and calls you back? the order
Let the child scream, let the dog bite him
Do not listen to the call of the meat that suffers
Nor even that of the souls tipping towards the chasms
The cry of the slaughterhouses where? concrete blood flows
And that of these peoples liquidated by decree
The cry of the insane? between brick walls
That of the dying or that of the lecherous
The innocent bleat of the naked flesh that is struck
Or of the more perverse one that flees so that it can be beaten catches
The cry that the whore counterfeits on her bed
And the cry of Jesus vinegar? the mouth
That of the virgin monk whose faith suddenly gives way
Who while insulting him asks? God his help
The one in hell? ? life in his cell
Who on a grave name? in the ejaculating plaster
Cry of impotent rage or metaphysical cry
The cry that a musician put in his music
Or the one that Edward Munch painted as one wanders
This cry that we cannot hear under the great cry of the waves
The mute cry of the researcher when the wave submerges him
O? clearly reads one of the mysteries of the world
And you my beautiful love who sees your blood spilling
Blade in hand and screams without understanding anything
And screams without understanding anything