Wireless telegraphy

My malady hear my heart

Closed bud of lost joys

Impishly I wish to sulk in the arms

Of my pretty mother

Memory of blue sky

Where I could snuggle

One must try to forget everything

The agony of the vertiginous world

The hero spinning

The hideous waltzes of the war

In the atmosphere enigmatic

And masked.

Francis Picabia