Casemate

Les casemates,

Elles se répandent dans l’herbe qui mousse de rayons,

Elles paissent, paisibles et fières, loin de tout tourbillon.

De ma petite enfance, je garde le souvenir

Des casemates insolites qui inondaient les plages.

En évoquant ces temps où l’Homme n’était plus sage,

Je me recueille devant ces rêves de papier pierre,

Comme autant de casques des soldats ensevelis,

Arrachés à la vie par les horreurs de la guerre.

Felipe Nualas, 2015

15 Comments

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