Vanité ?
(Indisponível)
I close my book and put it down
I turn off the music
'Cause it's late
Here comes drowsiness, the little death...
ART, TIME, DEATH, IN ONE...
Huge books, illustrated with beautiful paintings
In halls with wonderful outlines
Dancing statues, intoxicated by music
God Himself is here
Delightful visions where are mixed
Arts of Time and Space...
But, alas ! God draws aside and let His place
To a river of sand and its glass dam.
Here comes Time which everything erases
Books, paintings, even walls are cracking
Statues are falling, they break and stop
Music becomes silent, God has gone
The light drops, vision becomes cloudy
As the Sand river sweeps everything along
And then appear
What we all fear...
The vile skull with its hideous orbits
Here is Death
Human things seem to be really vain
My eyes suddenly open
And my mind shrieks in response
That if man cannot stop the hour-glass
His creations can slow down its stream
|
|
