Encounter: sitting in a dip by a grassy path, a fawn. Not much larger than an adult rabbit. Motionless and unafraid. I sat down on the path next to him. His nose wrinkled up, the skin like a child's, bare and pruned, and dark. I reached out and petted his face. We sat there for quite some time. Then he got up, turned about a few times, as if hesitating, then disappeared in a knee-high field of nettles.

dream

I am standing in a room, facing a wall. To my left, a large window. It's dark outside, but the windows have not turned into mirrors. Outside, it's darkness and fog. The windows seem semi-opaque. Without turning my head, I can see a large black bird approach the glass, its wings outstretched, not flapping, but merely extended, keeping it suspended in that fog. The bird's beak is so close to the window that it seems it's already passed through it, into the room. No, this must be an illusion. The windows become insubstantial, as if made of that fog, and are billowing like a dark grey, gauzy curtain. But when I turn my head and look straight at them, they are solid glass. I face the wall again, and continue seeing the windows distinctly, as if they were in front of me. The corner of my eye is a prism that alters the appearance of the world.

Without a sound, the bird's body traverses the window pane in slow motion. As soon as it's in the room, the bird becomes a real bird, making real bird-noises. I recognize it: it's a crow-eagle. Black as a crow, large as an eagle, and very gentle. I have already befriended it. It lets me plunge my fingers deep into the long soft feathers on the top of its head. I caress its beak. 

A dog rushes into the room with its slobbery canine excitement. It wants to sniff the bird, play with it, jumps up and down. I had no idea I had a dog, but now that it's here, its presence is natural and familiar. But I'm afraid that it will harm the bird, and I chase the dog away to protect it.

Now I notice a monkey who's observed the entire scene. I had no idea I had a monkey - but its presence is as natural as the dog's. The monkey is jealous of my fondness for the bird and, like a disturbed child, starts banging its head against the wall. I am heartbroken, and feel that somehow I had betrayed it. Why can't my animals live in harmony? 

The dream ends with a feeling of helplessness, and of love I feel for all these animals (combined with a profound knowledge of each of them).

they tied the knot in order not to forget.

rêve

Ils ont fait sortir un livre de mes poèmes. J'en étais tant étonnée comme si c'était vrai. Qui a pu faire tant d'effort de retrouver tous ces poèmes dont moi-même j'avais oublié l'existence? Pourtant, la publication m'a déplût. Le papier était gris-jaune, le genre qui vieillit entre les mains. Couverture souple, grise-bleuâtre, avec un dessin assez simple représentant une fenêtre. 

*

Mais n'était-ce un autre rêve: publier sur papier éphémère, sur des feuilles d'un journal, et retrouver les poèmes abandonnés sur un banc, les voir voler avec le vent, s'abattre avec la pluie, se dissoudre dans un flac, se décomposer en d'autres poèmes, ceux du vent, de la pluie, des pas précipités des gens?