Machiavel The Fifth Season
The snow pearled the sky and slowly it melted drop by
drop
A rainbow of eight colours was hanging in the sky
Offered by the gods for the new season
Under a cleaned sky, as far as its blue bark
The mural notches bustled up like bursting scales
The hollow of the valleys swallowed the shade of
burning winds
A lemon clearness shouted out the reunion of the moon
and the sun
Breaking idols of the fading stars
The tree had no birds, no dead leaves, just flowers and
fruits !
There was no day, no night, just a lemon clearness
fareaway, the horizon was slowly wearing
Separated by the sea, a rock and a tree were tearing up
another horizon
It was the beginning of the fifth season
Seated on the stairs of the church a man was left in
the lurch
His barrel organ played "Jester", a tune of the
seventies
A little boy wasn’t laughing he just stayed there and
said nothing
With his little merry-go-round that he made turn on the
groundµ
He really knew it was not a dream
And while tasting a blu ice cream
Without having a good grouse
With his other mouth he cried
"Mother I want another" It ‘s strange but the boy was
me
When the seasons where only four !
The moon and the sun were shining in the sky
Offered by the gods for the fifth season
