Hindsight

The translation of 'Avec le recul' was done meticulous but I think you are all aware that translations of poetry is risky business.
http://roadtonow-here.blogspot.nl/2014/08/avec-le-recul.html

I looked out of the

steamy window,

to see the remains,

the day after

the party.

I saw, I saw

I saw nothing

but the remnants of a life

for which I am solely

responsible.

I rarely thought of

your bodies

too attractive and dangerous

to imagine,

but all the more

of the profound beauty

of the dark eyes,

the strength of the noses,

the intense sweetness

of lips,

without forgetting the

wilderness

of the hair.

Live allowed me to dream,

I persevere.

On tiles drowned

by a sad rain,

there in the chasm,

I write my first

farewell letters.

It is time to speak.

to tell, to print.

Before the memory

forgets it is time to explain.

I look at myself  through the

misty window,

carving early encounters

fading away under a torrential

rain.

In the puddles I glimpse

feelings of tenderness

and later what was prohibited

is drowning.

Sobs aspire too much sadness.

I closed  the curtains.