Feeble red-feathered bird,
The faintest of winds
Fluttering your fragile wings,
Fiery red-feathered bird,
How easily, how eagerly
You sway, carried away.
Foolish red-feathered bird,
Don’t you know; whiffling
Might have you ruffled?
There was once a Clock Boy. Sitting on the top of a tall building Standing still, showing the time With his three gold arrows. Boring work, he would say, Clock Boy, on the tall building. But he sat there anyway Showing the time, still, still. He had friends, our round boy; Four big and beautiful bells That would sing a song Every hour of every day. Four big gold bells, ladies Chattering...
En français C’était un petit village ; Des rues et des trottoirs raboteux, Recouverts de briques rouges et de pavés, Recouverts de la poussière crasseuse des cheminées, Et un réverbère tordu, vis à vis de chaque maison, Le métal noir mat brisant les motifs répétitifs des frontons. Les ampoules jaunes, Dieu sait comment, Diffusaient encore une lumière vacillante, Amplifiant l’étrangeté...