UNIVERSE

                                                    Bearing rolling almost nude inside me
                                                                 Tiny animal of light
                                                         Tempest second after second

                                                                         Universe,
                                                       First, expanse of water over night
                                                             Echo coming from a shell
                                                            Which never says its name.
                                                                   Depths of spring.
                                                                   Silence of winter

                                                                         Universe,
                                                      One day I dressed myself with you,
                                                   Behind the “Black Man” dismantled.
                                                              Beauty in every sphere.
                                                              Kindness in every thing.
                                                       Vastness of serenity placed there
                                                                   On a single point.
                                                   Age and Youth forever joined together
                                                                 beneath the waves.

                                                                         Universe,
                                           An air bubble, almost, on the surface of Elsewhere
                                                    Change and chaos, flux and stability
                                                                       Ridiculous.
                                                                     All is Nothing.
                                                        The centuries pass like sponges.
                                                                 Fire feeds on water.
                                                  The earth is nothing but a branch of air.

                                                                         Universe,
                                                     No need to talk to you (about it all).
                                                     You are the door behind each word,
                                                          The imperceptible boundary,
                                                              The flight of a butterfly.
 

                                                                         Universe,
                                                                    In a hand-shake
                                                          When the lasting pain arrives
                                                        Of no longer knowing anything.
                                         When the last beloved has vanished in your furrows.
                                              When solitude tears off the blue from images.
                                               Universe unthinkable and yet perceived as a
                                                              Trap-door in the future.
                                                          Half-way between any traces.
                                                                   Behind the noise.
                                                               At momentum’s heart.

                                                                         Universe,
                                                         “like unto” a child who dances
                                                           to the sound of pipes of Pan.

                                                                         Universe,
                                                                       Confidence
                                                               In what happens to us.
                                                        I am you at the level of the day.
                                                          So many shadows pirouetting
                                                               in the space of a vision.
                                                         I set off in search of adventure
                                                             With, by way of oranges,
                                                      The word “love” and the Invisible.

                                                   René Barbier

CRISE
                                                               Alternative translation by
                                                                       Joseph Brenner
                                                                Les Diablerets, Switzerland
                                                                      November 5, 2001