I can’t be your mistress, Cos
There is less pleasure;
I can’t be your friend, Cos
There is less leasure;
So I become no named.
They feel like Gods, naming each thing, giving each thing a straigt place. But they will die if eating one flower without a name.
I can’t be your preacher, Cos
I Don’t know the mass;
I can’t be your teacher, Cos
I Am in the big mess;
So I become no named.
Nobody knows who I am. I forgive my name and my right place. And I was hoping you could wonder I’m one flower without a name.
I can’t be your heaven, Cos
You are hopeless;
I can’t be your hell, Cos
I’m still hopefull;
So I become no named.
Digging deeper and deeper in my mind, There is no name for you. In my freaky dream, you are my place beyond the name. Anyway I’m one flower without a name.
I could be a sea,
I could be a sky,
I could be a game,
I could be forever gone,
So I remain no named.
Valériane Des Voiles
Illustration: Empreintes de cylindres-sceaux médio-assyriens (13ème-11ème siècle avant J.C.)
