Métempsychose

Metempsychosis:

I believe in metempsychosis:
I wish I were a kettle,
A solfeggio, a rain of roses,
A lobster's caparison, 

A fat cat black and possessive,
The bear with the pale white of the pole
Or the old pensive elm
Sleeping, with a magpie on its shoulder, 

Or you, wavering beauty,
With your tender eyes and firm breasts,
At times docile and then haughty
Swollen with sap and pure blood, 

Or the black and yellow
Salamander at the bottom of a stump,
The Gartempe River or the Scamander,
The double kiss mouth to mouth 

Everything that lives, cries, sings and prowls
—The condor or the falcon,
The toad in the emerald
And the flame on the zircon, 

The pyre where Hercules crackles
The lark in the gonfanon wind...
—Or the tuber, if you prefer,
Hidden in the earth, nameless. — 

Maurice Fombeure.