Sweetest silent Albion

Lost in my mind,
Sailing to the sacred land.

The ultimate dream

Tastes like inanity

Feeding on fantasies

That calls back your reason.

But I am already called

By her poisonous mermaids,

Graciously looking, insidiously thinking.

Eh, what do we need,

To lose one’s mind.

Shimmering and cheeky,

Won’t we talk about it,

All those deadly games,

Those fool mistakes.

I will; And I dream,

On the fateful day,

When choking eyes open,

I’ll gaze at her intent.

Her melodious songs,

Lull and take me,

From the melancholy, this corny old tune,

Where the cold wind blows for tomorrow,

Noisy whisperings of a tragic fate.

Oh this folly with the eyes of Lion,

Cruel, furious, and beauty all in one,

As my island, my dream, and my soul,

That I called my sweetest silent Albion  

“I’ll be wind, you’ll be rain.”

 Des l’aurore, perdue, noyée, tremblante. Je t’attends dans l’ombre de mon utopie, mon Arcadie.