THE OLD WORD GRINDER (poem) - André Schmitz - Belgium

LE VIEUX BROYEUR DE MOTS

et la boue qu’il a sur les paupières
et le nuage qui bouge un peu dans son regard
et le poème rapiécé qu’il serre dans une main
et la tête d’un chien qu’il cherche de l’autre
et la femme qui ne cesse de le mettre au monde
et la mort qui ne le quitte pas d’une semelle

et les mots broyés qui jaunissent entre ses dents.

THE OLD WORD GRINDER

and the mud he has on his eyelids
and the cloud that moves a little in his gaze
and the patched up poem that he clutches in one hand
and the head of a dog that he gropes for with the other
and the woman who is constantly giving birth to him
and the death that is always breathing down his neck

and the ground up words turning yellow between his teeth.