Le dernier repas

At my last meal
I want to see my brothers
And my dogs and my cats
And the edge of the sea

At my last meal
I want to see my neighbors
And then a few Chinese
As cousins

And I want us to drink there
In addition to the communion wine
Of this lovely wine
That we drank in Arbois

I want us to devour there
After a few cassocks
A pheasant hen
From the Périgord

Then I want to be taken
To the top of my hill
To see the trees sleeping
Closing their arms

And then I want to
Throw stones at the sky
Shouting God is dead
One last time

At my last meal
I want to see my donkey
My hens and my geese
My cows and my women

At my last meal
I want to see these funny girls
Of whom I was master and king
Or who were my mistresses

When I have in my belly
Enough to drown the earth
I will break my glass
To make silence

And I will sing at the top of my lungs
To death approaching
The bawdy ballads
That scare the nuns

Then I want to be taken
To the top of my hill
To see the evening advancing
Slowly towards the plain

And still standing there
I will insult the bourgeois
Without fear and without remorse
One last time

After my last meal
I want us to leave
To finish the feast
Somewhere other than under my roof

After my last meal
I want to be seated
Alone like a king
Welcoming his vestals

In my pipe I will burn
My childhood memories
My unfinished dreams
My remaining hopes

And I will keep
To clothe my soul
Only the idea of a rosebush
And a woman's name

Then I will look
At the top of my hill
Dancing, revealing itself
Ending by sinking

And in the scent of flowers
That will soon fade
I know I will be afraid
One last time