Poems

Il est un temps où l'on dépose les pierres,
Celles que l'on porte au secret de son cœur,
Pour retrouver enfin la lumière,
Et laisser s'en aller le poids des douleurs.

They smile like the dawn, yet carry the night within their words.

Brussels is a city that dies on its feet. I have watched it dying for many years now. All that remains is an icy breath wandering among stones that no longer believe in morning. An ancient weariness has settled upon its streets like an everlasting ash, and every dawn resembles the one before, as though time itself had grown too...

Il courait jadis dans les couloirs dorés des saisons claires,
Le cœur rempli de soleils immenses et de matins incendiés,
Parmi les herbes hautes baignées d'une innocence légère,
Comme si rien au monde ne pouvait encore se briser.

Breathe…
As if every breath could cleanse your soul of all the falsehood, heaviness, and emptiness this world has placed upon it.

They crawl toward power with varnished smiles and hands already stained, predators in suits feeding on cracks and fears, shamelessly devouring what they swear to protect; their speeches are sweet poisons, their promises premeditated betrayals, and every word they utter reeks of disguised self-interest. They serve nothing and no one but their own...

Hors d'atteinte des âmes profanes et de leur bas esprit,
Je dérive dans ma bulle, goûtant la douceur de ma solitude,
Allongé dans le silence, je guette l'arrivée de la nuit,
Loin, très loin des foules et de toute turpitude.

Je suis ivre de mots et de vers,
Un désordre brûlant dans ma tête,
Une sensation de flotter dans les éthers,
Et m'abîmer en pleine tempête.

When it snows in Brussels, something ancient awakens within me. The city falls silent, as though holding its breath, and beneath the white veil, almost scarlet in the troubled light, everything is transformed. The snow covers the dirt, the hopes cast aside, the visible and invisible waste, and for a moment the world seems forgiven. The sidewalks...

Time slips away, silent and cruel, leaving behind bursts of laughter and bright days that will never return. We find ourselves dreaming of the past, caressing memories like ghosts, both gentle and painful. Each dawn brings the shadow of the unknown, and the fear of tomorrow seeps into our stolen moments. And yet, despite its escape, life whispers...