By the seaside
 gazing at the setting sun
 the little guys from Oléron .

 Without speechless fingers
 just posed there
 the rolled pebbles of the ocean .

 Stand guard
 the motionless lookouts
 difficult speech . 

 fiery presence
 companions of the waves
 to the ebb and flow of created things .

 Get married at the bottom of the mound
 the fang of the white pebbles
 to the mossy caress of the waters .

 Was, fate parades
 harshness and immobility
 like a secret lamp .

 A bright terminal light
 gathers salamander eyes
 of the accomplished horizon .

 washed, buried, rolled, posed
 they are bare-handed
 the lantern of the dead .

 On the big night
 in postponement position
 the eye closes its lids .

 No tears
 pile the hickey from the spray
 pigments the sword of the eternal .

 Skillfully orchestrated
 vertical drop made
 the gong of the nights rings out .

 There in joy and pain
 the gray reeds quiver
 hailing some kindness in the long run .

 In the heap
 a horibilis takes us away from the stones
 the squeal of the seagull .

 flame made ashes
 without faces
 the lamps flicker .

 For everything to start again
 bound but free guardians
 to reach the glory of the stars .

 'Cause there will be a sky
 before the tireless patience
 riddled with wildflowers .

 " My brothers, my sisters,
 let's not get lost
 in dark bickering .

 Let's nest in the cairn
 Memory sea ​​spray
 so that tomorrow
 an essential fever seizes us
 seaweed chew
 at nightfall .

 My soul
 my night
 my wife
 in this summer to cross
 between the little men of Oléron
 gazing at the setting sun
 by the seaside
 let the blue shark tooth
 to its abyss
 full of cowbells
 to bring us together
 in the land where no one is born or dies ."



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