Always At Dawn

It's always at dawn

It's always in the shadows

That the criminals rob

The innocent as well as the guilty

It's deep in the dark night

That we forget on the table

The suppers of the werewolves in disguise

And the unarmed gendarmes

For the carnival, for the feast

When blood turns to wine

Where we imitate the wedding feast of Canaan

Oh! Poor, we see the wicked pass by

And the assassins under the bridges

Who flee and flow like rascals

Oh! Poor, he's dead

The dead, are they always wrong

At dawn?

What a disgrace

For the month of October

Oh! Tis the season when we change our robe

Oh! Poor, he's dead

The dead, are they always wrong?


P.S. Translation of ‘ Toujours À L’Aube’.


Copyright © July 2021, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved

Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.


This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


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