“Whisky dust”

Two glasses of whisky
dipped in a cigarette smoke.

The sound of ice
dancing at the bottom
every time we take a sip.

Red rose in an empty bottle
and a little note.

Shine bright my star,
he murmurs and grins,
shine bright.

He touches my hand
and the cage cracks.

Peel me like an egg John,
help me hatch.

Take me under your drafty wings.



I have got you at the tip of my tongue,
at the end of my mind.

My fallen star which rose again and shines brightly,
enlightens my dreams, my way.

A feather you planted under my blade
has grown, has spread.

My angel, which I miss more and more every fall.

I am hungry for your voice,
your work and eyes.
Forever young.

I was shaped with your words.

Tell me, would you drink with me,
to celebrate the fate ?
If we ever met…



There is a rocky path,
small fields on the left
and a mysterious forest on the right,
a fairyland.

Cold creek among the trees
running towards the lake.
A red short wall decorated with nettles
and a gate at the end of the road.

Winding hill, red brick steps on the side
with cones spread all around,
just like if someone dropped them in a hurry.

At the top of the hill, right behind the bushes
a castle surrounded by acacias.
In front of the entrance a nut-tree.
Further, rabbits, swings, a sandpit and a slide.
Flowers everywhere.

A small beach at the bottom of the hill
with a thick chain at the entrance
and a leaning willow at the bank,
next to a rusty, creaky pier.

Warm raindrops dripping from the sun,
air filled with whispers, magic and wild mint.
Black night sprinkled with stars
mirrored in the surface of the lake.