LA DESCENTE AUX ENFERS - THE DESCENT INTO HELL

                                                           LE RETOUR


                                        Comme elle est triste cette aube matinale

                                       Où je dois quitter mon splendide perchoir

                                         Et redescendre dans les cités dortoirs

                                          Qui me rappellent ma vie machinale.

                                      Je roule parmi des paysages fantastiques,

                                 Les  nappes de brouillard étendues sur les terres

                                  Me donnent la sensation de planer dans les airs

                                          Je ne m'en lasse pas, c'est féerique.

                                    Au bord de la route, un chien interrogateur

                                  Se demande, en me voyant passer rapidement,

                                       Quelle mouche me pique, assurément,

                                    Pour ne pas prendre du temps, la langueur.

                                      Les oiseaux libres que j'ai croisés là-haut

                                       Je les retrouve perchés sur des poteaux

                                          Le long de l'autoroute des vacances

                                         A guetter les rares proies en errance.

                                     Ils prennent leur envol, évitant de justesse

                                     Le hayon du camion lancé à toute vitesse.

                                    Sur le bitume, les restes d'animaux écrasés

                                    Happés par le flot de la circulation effrénée.

                                         Ici, la vie n'a plus les mêmes vertus,

                                        La nature n'y est pas la bienvenue. 






MY TRANSLATION


                                                   

                                                     THE RETURN
 

                                            As it is sad this morning dawn

                                       When I must leave my beautiful perch

                                       And go down in the dormitory towns

                                       Which remind me my mechanical life.

                                       I drive amongst fantastic landscapes,

                                       The fog patches spread on the lands

                                 Give to me the sensation of hovering in the air

                                          I do not get tired, it's magnificent.

                                       At the roadside, an interrogator dog

                                        Wonders, seeing me move quickly,

                                           What fly pricks me, assuredly,

                                       For not take of the time, the languor.

                                              Free birds I've met on high

                                            I find them perched on posts

                                            Along the  holiday motorway

                                   To watch out for rare preys in wandering

                                         They take off, narrowly avoiding

                                 The tailgate of the truck running at full speed.

                                      On the asphalt, crushed animal remains

                                  Snapped up by the flood of the frantic traffic.

                                     Here, life no longer has the same virtues

                                           The Nature is not welcome.