Urban Fairy Tale
Lyon - Aujourd'hui
This is an urban fairy tale, to be read with a cup of tea in one hand, and a piece of cake in the other.
If one look could kill
I would certainly be dead
Because this wrinkled old skin
Is not positively a virgin maid.
If I take my pleasure in shooting
Plenty of silly pictures,
She takes hers in spying,
Anonymous living characters.
From the shabby window,
She's looking to the screen
Of a sour life of sorrow,
That long long had been.
And the day she'll die
Alone in her flat,
Nobody will care,
Except for the rats.
And a week later
The neighbours will complain,
To the rich owner
Of the gutter smell.
This is the end of this story, coming from an insane mind, an evening of heat, in a burning bath.
Je demande aux non-anglophones de me pardonner cette parenthèse, pour le moins shakespearienne. S'ils le demandent, une traduction ils obtiendront. Bonne soirée !