Jeanne Valet

by Oliviu Crâznic

 

I spotted her blonde hair, from the outskirts of my forest –

A worthy prey to summon, that sylphlike silhouette;

Under the ashen sunlight, leaving behind my raiment,

On all fours I am running – the time has come for Jeanne Valet.

 

And by the bridge of Desges, the angel eyes the demon;

She could not recognize me, this bride I’m here to wed.

A maiden’s wailing cry, a tear in her eye,

A prayer left unanswered: the time has come for Jeanne Valet.

 

Outstandingly, she fought me… and in her hand, a skewer…

What is this dance of ours?… She paints my world in red…

Cold waters sealed above me… I wonder, did she love me?

It does not really matter, for I am close to death…

 

I did not die, but dire was the moment…

And doleful this one tale, about the day we met…

“Safe distance” is my counsel, your life if you hold dear…

Believe me – bad idea, to target Jeanne Valet…

1 Comments

  1. Pingback: Săptămîna SF&F: 8 – 14 martie 2015 | Galileo Online

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