the pale hour... (after L-P Fargue)

"l'heure passe que les mains de la nuit faufilent aux vieux murs..."

(when they are very old, you forget how long they have lived...

you feel that you should know them better, 

even if you have known them a long time)

as the pale hour steals by, leave shadows quiver in the fading light...

***

"on entend le bruit nombreux des feuilles partout comme un feu qui prend..."

(when they leave us, you realize you don't miss them so much...

even as you know they are gone forever,

but the grieving and the regrets remain)

a certain pervasive scent lingers on, infusing the amorphous life...

***

"un rayon rôde encore à la crête du mur, glisse d'une main calme  et nous conduit vers l'ombre..."

(and everyday is a little less - a little less of them, a little less of you...

you will not know them any more now

than when you had known them then)

the branches nod in silence, a black tangle upon the darkening sky...

*selected lines in french from "Au Fil de l'Heure Pâle" by LEON-PAUL FARGUE (1876-1947)