Adieu

Adieu

  Autumn already! ― But why regret an eternal sun, if we were engaged with the discovery of the divine clarity ― far from people who are dying on the seasons.
  Autumn. Our bulk ship standing in the immobile fog turn the head toward the port of the misery, the huge city in the sky stained with mud and flames. Ah! the rotten rags, the rain-soaked bread, the drunkenness, and the thousand loves that crucified me! She will therefore never finish this ghoul queen of millions of dead souls and bodies, and who will be judged! I see myself again, with my skin gnawed by the mud and the plague, worms full of the hair and the armpit and even more bigger worms in the heart, lying among the unacquainted people, no age and no feeling... I could have died there... The horrible evocation! I hate misery
  And I'm afraid of winter because it is the season of comfort!
  ― Sometimes I see endless beaches covered with joyous white nations in the sky. A huge golden vessel, above me, shakes its multicolored flags in the morning breeze. I have created all festivals, all triumphs, all dramas. I have tried to invent new flowers, new stars, new fleshes, new languages. I believed I had acquired supernatural powers. Well! I have to bury my imagination and my memories! A beautiful glory of an artist and a storyteller is taken away!
  Me! I, who have called myself a magus or an angel, exempted from all morality, I am returned to the ground, with a duty to search, and the rough reality to embrace! Peasant!
  Am I deceived? the charity would be a sister of death, for me?
  Finally, I will demand apology for feeding me a lie. And let's go.
  But not a friend's hand! and where to draw the help?