A Curious Dream

In my prison, I had a curious dream,

I dreamed that a great day had taken place:

The day of those gnawed by suffering,

Tracked and pursued by enemy fate…

The day of those whom hope had fled…

Radiant, taking on a festive air,

The old sun blazed ardently;

Like a tablecloth at the feast that is prepared,

Virgin, the blue sky spread out its splendor,

And in the fields, fresh with new color,

Proud and gay, the flowers raised their heads.

As they issued from the dark corners of the city

The hopeless! Gaping, all their tombs:

Slums, prisons, hospitals and asylums

Vomited them up in torrents, in herds.

They looked like the swells of an ocean.

The unlucky, the weary, the incurable,

The outlaws, the errant, the cursed,

How the city teemed with these undesirables:

Its streets and crossroads were invaded

And in the air their cries clashed.

Never was seen such a wretched mob!

Then, in my dream, filling the pavements,

I saw rivers of blood flowing.

I glimpsed, from heaped up ruins,

In red jets, flames shoot up.

Fat crows hovered, croaking.

You could hear the clamor of a storm

Which accompanied a raucous, vengeful song.

So revenge ascended to its peak

Without the glare being diminished by a flower,

But the splendor of the blue sky had paled

And the sun lost its festive air.

Envoi

Yes, I dreamed that the great day had come!

The day of those whom suffering gnaws

Tracked and pursued by enemy fate….

The day of those whom hope has fled.

Day of revenge… Ah! You are only a lie,

The false product of my brain!

In my prison I had a curious dream…

(Maison Centrale de Nimes.)

E. Armand