Snow melted down on Théoule,
But the sea seems cool – no swell -.
After another defeated night,
I regret the sweetest feast.

Was damaged by the shade of Time ;
You all, inanimate objects,
What has become of my soul ?
On that bad galley, I row !

And I need the sea breeze,
Otherwise, I foam and boil with rage
Like a sailor lost in town,
Prisoner of a servile life.

Give me now the sun warmin’
My skin, and like a dragonfly,
I will fly near the water sources
And wish I never bow again !

February, the 24th