October has arrived controlled by the rains,
and the remaining months have followed it here.
Suddenly this pile of time fills everything,
the green of the house, the chairs,
the blanket that covers the floor
when I lie down to read in the summer.
I am not able to abandon time,
had forgetfulness bestowed its grace on me
I would have been saved from this invasion.
Now I must step cautiously,
not mistreat myself with so many memories.
Will I deceive myself or will what I say be true?
I refuse this visit, I am not afraid of solitude.

Translation: 2010, Constance Lardas