Broken Mirror

Jacques PrévertJacques Prévert

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That small man who always sang
That small man who danced in my head
That small man with youth
Undid his shoelaces
And broke all the barracks of the festival
Suddenly everything collapsed
And in the silence of the festival
In the ruin of the festival
I heard your happy voice
Your voice so torn and fragile
Innocent and desolate
Came from afar and called me
And I put my hands on my chest
where they trembled ******
Seven broken pieces of mirror
with your twinkling smile
Jacques Prévert
About the poet

Jacques Prévert

1900 - 1977/Male/FrenchA poet and screenwriter whose best-regarded films formed part of the poetic realist movement. (wikipedia)

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