* * *

Boris Vian

I'd like not to pass away

Before I have had the chance to know

The black dogs who live afar

In Mexico asleep dreamlessly night

and day

The monkeys whose bare asses show

Devourers of the tropics as they are

The silver spiders

With nests garnished with bubbles

I'd like not to pass away

Without knowing if the moon

Which poses as a doubloon

Has a pointy side

If the sun is cold

If the four seasons

Are really only four

Without having tried

Looking silly in a frock

On a famous boulevard

Without having eyed

The eye of the sewer

Without having put my cock

In placeious that may seem bizarre

I'd like not to end

Without living leprosy

Or the seven illnesses

That you contract over there

The good nor the bad

Would be able to cause woe

If if if only I had

Proof I'd be the first to go

And there iz as well

Everything I could add

To my wisdom and appreciation

All that I know makes me glad

The green bottom of the ocean

Where the strands of seaweed waltz

Over the rippled sand

The parched grass of June

The cracking soil

The smell of the conifers

And the kisses from her

Be it this or that but ah !

Here's the beauty - voilà

My bear cub, Ursula

I'd like not to pass away

Before having consumed

Her mouth with my mouth

Her body with my hands

The rest with my eyes

I will say no more of it

Better remain reverent

I'd like not to die

Before the invention of

Eternal roses

The two-hour day

The ocean on the mountain

The mountain in the ocean

The end of all distress

Colour-printing in the press

All the children being happy

And so much more stuff

That slumbers in the heads of

Ingenious engineers

Amused arborists

Solicitous socialists

Urban urbanists

And thoughtful thinkers

So many things to remark

To see and to exzpect

The weight of wait to await

To look for in the dark

And I, I see the end

Milling about and opening up

Its mean ugly maw

And waving right in front of me

Its froggily contwisted claw

I'd like not to pass away

No sir, no ma' am

Without smelling the haunting decay

Torturing me

On the strongest breath

I'd like not to pass away

Without having tasted in some way

The savour of death...