My powers of expression, thought so sublime, they'll never do you justice in rhythm or rhyme.
Well my sense of humanity has gone down the drain: time to roll round in the bright sea of His prose and to join His enormous revelry. It's not dark yet, but it's getting there. Exuberance is Beauty, He'll heal my scars and the whirlwind of shadows, my soul. Feel like my soul has turned into steel: but He won't let me down. Sa bonté est éternellement recommençante. Every nerve in my body is so vacant and numb: He'll wake me up, He'll straighten my spine, He'll rejoice my mind.
Le dessein en est pris, je masteriserai Jean-Jacques une année durant. Jacques Berchtold veuille m'accompagner Sur la Route de Genève!
