Words charm me   make me sign And ask that I   work at any salary   to find them– Words rush   under my pen like a crowd   of workers Words demand   their right to speak   and seek to establish a dictatorship   of words over life– They need someone who understands them   who will be at their service–         Alas! I am not that person Words pass through my hands   Sitting and sleeping   at the feet of the poet   Who alone knows what they are worth   Words will die if no one   stirs them in time– Words are silence which speaks– Silent speaking bubbles.

(Translated from the French by Kristen Prevallet)