فمك يتكلم لكنه معوج.
لكني لا أسمعك.
هناك غراب يتحدث ،
لكنه يتحدث
كلام فارغ.
الشمس معلقة
على سطح المنزل ،
آخذها وأحملها على
ظهري.
يضحك الجيران عندما
يرونني.
الظلال تتبعنا ، باكية.
البيضة لها عين ترى.
العالم مستدير مثل
الكرة.
جثتك معلقة على شجرة
يفتح الجرح بطنه ،
يبدو أنه يبتسم.
لكن أعضائه تسقط على
الأرض.
يأتي ابن آوى ليأكلهم.
وأيدينا رؤوس بشرية
،
لكنهم لا يستطيعون
الكلام.
Your mouth speaks but it is crooked.
But I don’t hear you.
There’s a crow talking, but it’s talking
nonsense.
The sun is hanging
on the roof of a house,
I take it and carry it on my back.
The neighbors laugh when they see me.
Shadows follow us, weeping.
The egg has an eye that sees.
The world is round like a ball.
Your body is hanging on a tree
The wound opens its stomach,
It seems to be smiling.
But itq organs fall in the ground.
Jackals come to eat them.
And our hands are human heads,
But they cannot speak.
Ivan de Monbrison is a poet and artist living in Paris born in 1969 and affected by various types of mental disorders, he has published some poems in the past.