Friday, September 7, 2012


                (Alcools: Hôtels)

The room is free
Each for himself
A new arrival
Pays by the month

The boss is doubtful
Whether you’ll pay
Like a top
I spin on the way

The traffic noise
My neighbour gross
Who puffs an acrid
English smoke

O La Vallière
Who limps and smiles
In my prayers
The bedside table

And all the company
in this hotel
know the languages
of Babel

Let’s shut our doors
With a double lock
And each adore
his lonely love

-Guillaume Appollinaire

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