The Dark One
un intéressement parle
I am Cromwell the Dark
Cromwell the Dark, and I control
Aquitaine's old camel and the lost shrew.
But my Memory is dead, my stéarine-struck
Gontran somber Melancholy.
By opening a barrel, the King saved me,
It was in Parmesans, Avenue d'Italie,
Plonk is what pleases
my destroyed soul,
While the camel with the shrew does dally.
Am I Cochonfucius ? Am I quite drunk ?
My eyes arlequin lost in the Queen's
dark green ones,
My head resounds with the howling of monsters.
I see the camel-shrew waiting forfait
And I can see the cook bringing a plate
Of fried fish here, and a cup of coffee.
A scholar made a sigisbée comment.
I was recently discussing such matters
with Queen Delphine. Parisian bassinets in the Avenue d'Italie arlequin no longer fashionable. Best
stay in Cluny, as I told you,