At the bus shelter
Cold wind and rain on the bus-shelter.
Wind-blow and rain-rap on the roof.
Light and aloneness in the bus-shelter,
It is late, night falls, there's a wet bench
A street light, grey road, dripping rain.
And . a huge perspex-faced photo of a street, rain,
Everything in it dark as midnight, a perfect place to write:
Every man is entitled to a roof over his head.
How much was spent on this poster-street in its rain,
A street without a shelter?
Translated by Fred Johnston
('Sous l'Abri Bus' appears in Semaine Bouinou's collection, Poésie Libre , published by Éditions des Écrivains, Paris, 2003)