From: The Illuminations


Nothing. A summer
dawn takes you back to the front
of the castle. Road,

camp, water; dead wood
not going to shade. Bright, warm,
and I wake up in

the look market of
noise and beautiful feathers.
First company, trail

commission, and the
chip is already full. The
flowers said I was

his name. I, white fir,
silver crown goddess, laugh a
waterfall you sail.

I picked based on the
format; he criticized the
climbing vibration

arm tap. Big city—
it avoided dome towers,
present under the

marble and beggars
on the dock. Experience
shows. I stick to fame

and his big body,
rowing the top edge of the
road. Supervision,

structure, rate little
in the morning, children. The
clock fell on the floor.

[original French via Japanese-Russian-German-Hindi, Google and Bing translators]


Shells made of copper
and silver—steel and silver
springs and fighting foam.

The carriage of good
will increase the screws for the
carriage of goods. Streams

of heath and huge back
streets, pillars of the forest
a battery, the

wharf of huge spinners.
Negative angle remains
a vortex of light.

[original French via Italian-German-Greek-Romanian, Bing translator]

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