"Bodies of bronze who with one motion will make all the old walls of Jericho fall to dust"

The War
Le Clezio

In these dead water mornings
the body of a woman emerges from the abyss
of months of toil and of love
from beneath the eyelids of half-sleep
I hear your breathing and break toward light

Pink and sweaty spring
rises from the forests
Summer heating itself to whiteness
October in its blood
and its worm-gnawed skins
Winter with the heavy rhythm of space

Measurements of time and you in ardent substance

An entire journey is kept in us
our dreams drift out of us
drift toward the world

Aftertaste of pleasure
bodies of attention and infringement
bodies of bronze and fatigue
your deer-neck pulpy and pale
and your sweetness    this torch
solicits night

I am not this reaper
harassed by dead fields
red thighed

mute fairy of the ashes
helmeted for the exit of gods
conqueror of mysteries
bucolic Venus
inspirer
protector

Not the sacrificial dove
nor biblical virgin
I am the one who looks at you
look at me
who takes you into the haunches of abandon
whom you watch, so distrustful

To me you are the deadly trumpet song of the old walls of Jericho