Alle 53 Texte von Roger-Bôtan

Sappho, you followed your ecstatic impulse and climbed a promontory on the shore and froze up there aghast, because you saw it was neither Parnassus nor Olympus. You heard no raving cheers, no flutes or cymbals, you saw no Pegasus for you to soar...

Muses, d’you hear that unkempt schmaltzy bloke’s pathetic bray? Go help him! He invokes you day and night in utter desperation. In case you want to be of use, swing by at his digs and fill the guy with inspiration. As far as I’m concerned,...

Adieu, Russie, foutue marâtre, / et toi peuple qui obéis / aux cosmonautes et matraques / qui tyrannisent le pays. / Adieu, je m’ casse vers le Caucase / comm’ des milliers de réfugiés / qui s’ fout’nt de tes sal’s gueul’s...