The World

 

So sad is the gaze of the world, so sad!

and so dry his face, after so bad sobs!

A tremendous noise booms in his hears!

He cannot sleep, He cannot respire.

 

In his air bed, that no more sustains,

he turns and turns, searching for peace.

 

Each part of his body, hurts him so badly!

 

The destroyed bed destroys his figure.

His bones, burned by fire,

are turned into ash.

 

Our world, son of the Universe,

father of little universes,

engender of planets:

drops of life creating new lives,

drops of life playing to hide,

turning around a fulgent sun.

 

Our world is a very complex world

full of  lice and flowers;

full of birds singing and eating lice,

full of wonderful butterflies

eating nectar from the flowers.

 

But eagles soar, and eat the birds,

the birds, who where singing so gay!

 

The world weeps and his sobs raise huge cataclysms,

cataclysms which impose a certain order,

to ensure flowers to bloom

and nourish butterflies,

to ensure lice for birds

and birds for eagles.

 

Our world is a very complex world,

entailing for the life he begets,

nourishment and death.

 

So sad is the gaze of the world, so sad!

and so dry his face, after so bad sobs!

A tremendous noise booms in his hears!

He cannot sleep, he cannot respire.