Ceci est un poème que j’ai écrit à propos de Berlin.
This is a poem I wrote about Berlin.
No French translation available
Where does the train go when it stops,
Where does the girl who fell apart,
On dusty city side walks, look to find her self at last,
A new concrete home, of shattered broken glass,
To heal a burning yearning broken sooty heart.
Where does acid rain fall when the drains are full,
Overflowing streets in the kingdom of the fool,
Angels roost high above this sinking tide, sing hymns long forgotten
What’s pure now lost, Hazy and downtrodden.
Where does the wet dream, the silver stream,
The wild rotten flower doomed in a silent scream,
The beautiful bride enchained in a coal seam,
May find a way out of this dark extreme.
I follow the crumbs of satisfaction, like Hansel and Gretel,
Through the dirt, the chaos, the luscious taste of the filthy metal,
And bring them to bear as an offering to my childhood void,
An explosion of senses reigniting what was much destroyed.
Where does the train go when the music stops,
Where do I, the ultimate fiery gypsy,
The insolent sweet loving fairy,
The queen of violent burning desires,
Rolled in honey with barbed wires,
The impetuous soul who cannot be tamed,
Where do I go when I have left the train.
I rise from my languor with a warm hand choking my delicate neck,
This is the playground where I can dance and behave like a beautiful wreck.
Where I can paint the colours of my dreams, Where I can sweat and sway and foul play with blood chains of so much pity, bed sheet stains in a drunken city.
Where does the train go when it stops,
When innocence knocks and does not fit the box.
This is Berlin, city of sin.
That’s where it goes,
That’s where the train goes when it stops.
Camille Pellicer March 2022