A DREAM FOR WINTER

In the winter, we will leave in a small pink railway carriage
With blue cushions.
We will be comfortable. A nest of mad kisses lies
In each soft corner.

You will close your eyes, in order not to see, through the glass,
The evening shadows making faces.
Those snarling monstrosities, a populace
Of black demons and black wolves.

Then you will feel your cheek scratched...
A little kiss, like a mad spider,
Will run around your neck...

And you will say to me: "Get it!" as you bend your neck
— And we will take a long time to find that creature
— Which travels a great deal...