I made the decision
to circle the world
on the bicycle of freedom,
in the same way, yes, illegally,
like the wind that travels.
If they ask me
for my address,
I’ve given them the addresses of every sidewalk,
which I’ve chosen as my permanent
places of residence.
If they ask me
for my identity papers,
I show them your eyes, my love,
and thus they let me pass.
Because they know that to travel
in the cities of your eyes
is the right of all
the inhabitants of the world.
When you visit me
in new clothes,
I feel what a gardener feels
when his tree blossoms.
I wish to climb with you,
even just once,
on the train of madness,
the train that forgets
the names of its passengers.
I wish you would wear,
even just once,
the raincoat,
and meet me at the station of folly.
Oh! If only you could free yourself, even for a day,
from the instinct of the rabbit,
and realize
that I am not your hunter,
but your lover.
