Saint Sebastian, Poem by Charles Cros

Poem by Charles Cros Collection The Collar of ClawsPeriod 19th century

I am useless and I am harmful;
My skin has the tones that suit the target.
Lackeys attached to the public power,
Shoot, shoot then, honest archers!

The first arrow wounded my belly,
The second with ferocity enters
My throat, so too my precious blood
Gushes, bright red, in the sight of the heavens.

I am dying and up there in the plane trees
Are charming birds. Below, good donkeys
Mixed with bears, brutes that one must
Never occupy with things from on high

Charles Cros

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