In the winter, we will leave in a small pink railway carriage
With blue cushions.
We will be comfortable. A nest of mad kisses lies
In each soft corner.
You will close your eyes, in order not to see, through the glass,
The evening shadows making faces,
Those snarling monstrosities, a populace
Of black demons and black wolves.
Then you will feel your cheek scratched...
A little kiss, like a mad spider,
Will run around your neck...
And you will say to me: "Get it!, as you bend your neck;
-And we will take a long time to find that creature
-Which travels a great deal...