PONDERINGS ON A STATUE

deprived of an arm
the statue had its gesture
captured

without the legend in bronze
it had its speech
stolen

if they only could see us, its eyes would keep their quiet,
phantom in reverse that we all can see
but can’t see us in its turn

a second garment of moss
shelters it from the stone cold
which afflicts still nature

its heavy feet trot around time
time our eyes simply can't distinguish
for we can’t meet it from the outside

the statue must also suppose
nothing besides itself exists
and I’m afraid it has a point

one day they had organised
a loud inaugurating opening
but today you won't even hear about it

it seems bound to be less a memento
of the fortune of recollection than another
unwilling tribute to devouring oblivion

and when the night covers the world
and the dreams reweave the threads of the lived
the statue hides from our lights

and goes back to sleeping