azeda booth
landscape (with grass)
2007
(française version)
Corps mystérieux. Les deux mots lui trottaient dans la tête sans qu'il
n'en trouve ni l'origine ni le point de départ. Il hésitait entre un "corps mystérieux
du Christ" et ces "corps mystérieux sont peut-être à l'origine de nos étoiles..."
Dès que le mot "étoiles" se matérialisa devant ses yeux intimes, ceux qui
se trouvaient dans sa tête, il a su que ça allait repartir. Le chemin à l'envers.
"Tu es mon étoile, et si tu es mon étoile est ce que je te vois alors que tu es
déjà morte ?" Des mots répétés des milliards de fois dans les silences de sa
mémoire. Elle mourrait. Il ne le savait pas. Quelques semaines plus tard. Elle
était morte. Il le savait. Elle était son étoile.
(englikhtonian version)
Mysterious body. Both words trotted in his head without finding
neither origin nor starting point. He hesitated between a "Christ's
mysterious body..." and these "mysterious bodies are perhaps at the
origin of our stars..." As soon as word "stars" materialized in front of his
private eyes, those in his head, he knew that this was about to start
again. Way back. "You are my star, and if you're my star, am I seeing you while
you're already dead? " Words repeated billions of times in the silence of his memory.
She would die. He didn't know it. Some weeks later. She had died. He knew it. She
was his star.
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image "mysterious ghost body" by ZB