A poem for Wednesday

Just one post today; a poem. One that expresses the angst I'm feeling right now (my Sunday thoughts are more difficult to put into practice when I'm back in the thick of the work week). This is from my only man. I recommend you read it out loud. Or allow yourself to hear it in your head. As with all Beckett's work, the cadence beautiful.

my way is in the sand flowing
between the shingle and the dune
the summer rain rains on my life
on me my life harrying fleeing
to its beginning to its end

my peace is there in the receding mist
when I may cease from treading these long shifting thresholds
and live the space of a door
that opens and shuts

And in French:

je suis ce cours de sable qui glisse
entre le galet et la dune
le pluie d'été pleut sur ma vie
sur moi ma vie qui me fuit me poursuit
et finira le jour de son commencement

cher instant je te vois
dans ce rideau de brume qui recule
où je n'aurai plus à fouler ces longs seuils mouvants
et vivrai le temps d'une porte
quis s'ouvre et se referme
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