Sonnet commencé en esprit en sortant de la BNF vers 20h, d’ailleurs c’est de ça que ça cause. La versification est plus que bancale, je maîtrise bien mieux l’alexandrin, mais le tout se tient.
The weary flock
Scholars fret not in the national library,
Peeping between two deepest thoughts
The blue birds stuck on the dirty pane,
Or the black but comely neighbour think.
Yet when twice the bell has rung
Advising’em to put their books aside
Both unbound and melancholy they pack
And in the plastic case their laptop put.
Behold the weary flock when it goes back :
And through the red corridor slowly walks,
For still they think and more would read.
Life calls them back but they prefer
The papered meadow where they graze
The inkèd rivers where they drink.