POEMS
by
Francesca Del Moro
Il est si doux le soir
car je te retrouve toujours
quand je reviens chez moi.
Elle est si aimable la nuit
parce que mon amour
est si grand et si fort
que je peux me figurer
me collant à ton corps.
Elle est si belle ma chambre
parce que ton regard
rechauffe l’obscurité
et je respire ta voix
comme un très long baiser.
Il est si généreux le sommeil
parce qu’il me donne l’espoir
de te trouver dans un rêve.
Elle est si réelle ma fantaisie
parce que, comme un corps aimant
elle est si passionnée la nuit,
elle est si pleine de poésie.
Text of La Nuit aimable (Le puits)
video installation by Arts Factory
Ballad of the Virgin
I was feeling sick and blue,
My face was white as my nightgown, My lips were dry as autumn leaves, My body was all ablaze. Then I turned my watery eyes Towards the window pane And I suddenly saw her Shining and smiling and blonde And porcelain-skinned and blue-eyed, With a purple cloak on her shoulders And a golden halo on her head. I pray you, Lady, I said: What shall I do To make him see me? And she replied: You must dig out your eyes And give them to me To make rosary beads. And what shall I do To make him kiss me? You must rip out your tongue And give it to me To make a plate for the host. And what shall I do To make him touch me? You must chop off your hands |
And give them to me
To make a glass for Christ’s blood. And what shall I do To make him fuck me? You must slice off your pussy And give it to me And I will burn that impure Female thing inside the thurible. And what shall I do To make him love me? She answered, at last, You must open up your chest And take out your heart, Wipe the blood from around it, And polish and shape it, Then put it in a silver frame And I will hang it on a wall Where I keep a thousand Foolish hearts In the section labelled: “Atheists turned devout To win a man’s love”. |