One day

One day,

There’ll be something more than the day

Something franker that will be called Jode

Something as translucent as rosin is

That one will elegantly crimp in an eye

There will be the auraille, crueler

The volutin, more casual

The summum, less never ending

The baouf, still covered with snow

There will be the chalmondre

The ivrumini, the barhoic

And a whole field of analognes

The hours will be different

Not the same, without result

No use to decide right now

The precise details of all this

One thing remains certain: one day

There’ll be something more than the day