Translation:Unity

Tonight my clock is gasping next to my darkened temple, like the apple of a revolver that turns over beneath the trigger without finding the bullet.

The white moon, immobile, is filled with tears and it’s an eye that aims... And I feel as if the great Mystery manifests itself in a hostile and ovoid idea, in a bright red bullet.

Oh, hand that limits, that breathes behind all the doors, and that gives life to all the clocks, yield and go on your way!

Over the gray spider of your frame, another great Hand made of light bears the weight of a bullet in the blue shape of a heart.