"try to be free, you'll starve"
How many hours, how many hours has he fasted ?
how many indifferent noses has he seen passing by?
He is lying under the good hearted foliage
of a very old hornbeam, in the neat public garden where
the local man comes to walks his sweet boredom,
dog in leash; he begged until midnight;
fertile in stars, full moon, night was beautiful.
He gobbled -Nature's gift- some cranberries,
spent the night listening to his poor heart,
metronome of the days, still victorious over death.
Bearded, unkempt, he is shivering in his blanket.
The sun encourages him to resume the adventure
One must try to survive ! But what for ?
Is there more Thankless life than a vagrant's one ?
Nobody knows why, he gets up and hits back the road.
of this aimless wandering, this human defeat
he endorses the entire responsability.
He left home, friends, in the dark
chose to lurk. Not a single exchange
of words since... Hunger itches him again already.
the magnanimous city has its fountain waters,
its benches, but good samaritan souls
or good bread, so few! Being is a fight
that a lonely man cannot win. A tobacco store
in a grimy neighborhood. Before his downfall
he was dreaming of lakes, mountains, forests, Asia, greatness.
Today, amid the impoverished and squalid multitude,
he thinks of nothing else but the smell of waffles.