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Found in translation, a poetic life cycle

1. Egg [This is my hatching thought, which you cannot see.] 2. Larva The moon shines, a pretty pill. It couldn’t fill me with more. It couldn’t spill its light more brightly or cover me more tenderly. My chalky smile smiles back at her more sweetly for the pain-killing. It’s magic. 3. Pupa La lune brille, une pilule assez. Il ne pouvait pas me remplir de plus. Il ne pouvait pas répandre sa lumière plus vives ou me couvrir plus tendrement. Mon calcaires sourire sourires de retour à son plus doucement pour la douleur-massacre. C'est magique. 4. Imago The moon shines, a pretty pill. He could not fill me with more. He could not spread its light over- bright, or cover me more tenderly. My limestone smile smiles back at its, gently. To the pain-killing, it's magical.
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Written by
francis-scudellari
American
For You?
Written by
francis-scudellari
American
Published
Aug 16, 2011
Lines·Words
44·137
Notes

French translation, and translation back into English courtesy of Google's online translator, with only punctuation altered.

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