Orisons

We live in a world ,
strange yet straight .
Where drowning silences,
open the heaven's gate .

And Man' shadow ,
on the yellow streets
asks for forgiveness,
in maddening feats

-And yet Hope,
The mother of all .
Blesses our nights
with holy scroll.

That Man may become
what he pleases to be ,
whence fear is absent
and love is free!



where the songs of sorrow ,
never absent nor tired
but despair no more ,
in sublime desires .

where wind brings joy,
of autumn and spring .
and music mirrors the mire,
of every little thing

There may reach ,
my purified orisons ,
In God's lap ,
beyond tranquil horizons.