Les Furs Du Mal
“Flowers, Balance and Shades”

Oh, I the wetly weak paw
Led by his strong warm claw
Walking for the forbidden path
Through high uncut summer grass
The hunters us lurking quietly
packs of hounds serves to his fly
But still sounds around my head
Black parasol: Flowers, Balance and shades

The stupid little bells in my fool cap
Only witness of my sad defect
Crowning with the most pathetic seriousness
And dressed with the most ridiculous distress
But the smile on his tanned-fur face
His white teeth mean that everything that's not care
Caressed by the gentle roughness of his hands
Black earth stained fingers and nails

We are already entering in the forest hold
I'm folding up my parasol
Ads my fear of deprivation
In response to his constant vacillation
In part were the branches don’t let me move
I dare smiled as shy excuse

Oh does he know the ghosts I drag
the dreadful ending I expect?
Just watch the fearful hand of this elder boy
What secrets insinuates behind their strokes?
I don’t want this shadow over near to me
Because with the loop of time
I will always fear.

The fact that I carelessly stepped
Without realize I fell on my own dark-trap
You stride, I'm glancing at your belt ... -
should I miss any of the things I never felt?

The shaking hand of this olden boy
instead waters the flowers
on his ancient grave.

A.V.C