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Path: ...!eternal-september.org!feeder3.eternal-september.org!news.eternal-september.org!.POSTED!not-for-mail From: efji <efji@efi.efji> Newsgroups: fr.rec.photo Subject: =?UTF-8?Q?Re=3A_Les_Ailes_du_D=C3=A9sir?= Date: Fri, 22 Mar 2024 18:13:29 +0100 Organization: A noiseless patient Spider Lines: 24 Message-ID: <utke7p$31r7h$2@dont-email.me> References: <utc7qs$se2i$1@dont-email.me> <utcfun$ubn5$1@dont-email.me> <utcmd6$vq4c$1@dont-email.me> <utcsar$vmde$1@dont-email.me> <utctk5$11e72$1@dont-email.me> <utd46t$12srb$1@dont-email.me> <utemdi$1g9ab$1@dont-email.me> <utepqr$1h2je$1@dont-email.me> <uteq8d$1h302$1@dont-email.me> <utf66d$1jva5$1@dont-email.me> <utf6fh$1jr3t$2@dont-email.me> <utf7mc$1kb8a$1@dont-email.me> <utf9c1$1kmru$1@dont-email.me> <utfbu4$1jr33$2@dont-email.me> <utfkr8$1k7bj$1@solani.org> <utgprt$227b8$2@dont-email.me> <utgr2l$23i1q$1@dont-email.me> <uth38f$242dd$1@dont-email.me> <uth83g$26ik5$1@dont-email.me> <uthphp$2aeg0$2@dont-email.me> <utias5$2f636$1@dont-email.me> <utjt4v$2s8tg$3@dont-email.me> <utkdm4$31po5$1@dont-email.me> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=UTF-8; format=flowed Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Injection-Date: Fri, 22 Mar 2024 17:13:29 -0000 (UTC) Injection-Info: dont-email.me; posting-host="86ae2e5f9fcdc1e8edb6aea455c7b338"; logging-data="3206385"; mail-complaints-to="abuse@eternal-september.org"; posting-account="U2FsdGVkX180bihY9xRkTj5piy31oez5" User-Agent: Mozilla Thunderbird Cancel-Lock: sha1:aMB/1sTvjWReU8Myd9ObKhiPzUU= In-Reply-To: <utkdm4$31po5$1@dont-email.me> Content-Language: fr, en-US Bytes: 2394 Le 22/03/2024 à 18:04, Alf92 a écrit : >> >> Who mourns ? A fool with mortal look >> That dares to weep for Sparkenbroke ? >> Weep thine own exile : not my life. >> With Earth for mother, Sleep for wife, >> Here in the womb is winter spring. >> Who stays ? A Fool. Who knocks ? A King. > > Qui pleure ? Un sot, au regard funeste, > Qui ose pleurer pour Sparkenbroke ? > Pleure ton propre exil, pas ma vie. > Avec la Terre pour mère, le Sommeil pour épouse, > Ici dans le sein, l'hiver fait naître le printemps. > Qui reste ? Un sot. Qui frappe ? Un Roi. > > je lui ai demandé des rimes, elle n'y arrive pas... En même temps l'original ne s'est pas foulé : look-broke, life-wife :) -- F.J.