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Words by ArikaRinkishika

Writing by MatieuCanadaWilliams

Poetry by Fundelstein


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Submitted on
November 27, 2013
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(English version below)

Son bourreau vit dans ses yeux de jais
Une désolation si profonde, à se noyer dedans.
Un regard qui implorait une justice plus juste que celle de la faux.


Cela ne dura qu'un instant, mais cette âme perdue
Grava son existence achevée sur le basalte de son coeur. 
Son bourreau en perdit le goût de sa vie, le goût du meurtre.


Son humanité enfouie au plus profond de lui faisait-elle enfin surface?
Frappant ses côtes telle un tambour de guerre semant destruction.
Désormais, sur ses épaules pesait le poids pesant de la mort.


Rentrant d'une journée plus sombre qu'une nuit de cendres;
Son bourreau, de ses mains lourdes encore tremblantes
Enleva son funeste masque humidifié de perles de larmes,
Puis s'endormit dans son dernier sommeil.





Time for tears


His executioner saw in his jet eyes 
A desolation so profound, that you drown in it.
A gaze that begged a fairer justice than the scythe's.


It lasted only a moment, but this lost soul
Engraved her finished existence on the basalt of his heart.
His executioner lost the taste of his life, the taste of murder.


His humanity buried deep inside him finally resurfaced?
Striking his ribs like a war drum sowing destruction.
Henceforth, on his shoulders weighed the weighty weight of death.


Returning from a day even darker than an ashes' night ;
His executioner, from his heavy and still trembling hands 
Took his mask off, moistened of tears' beads,
Then fell asleep in his last sleep.
A dear friend I hurt too much.
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