The future

Let’s raise the straw

Let’s consider the snow

Let’s write letters

Let’s await orders

Let’s smoke a pipe

Whilst thinking of love

The gabions are there

Let’s consider the rose

The fountain has not dried up

Anymore than the straw’s gold has dulled

Let’s consider the bee

And not think of the future

Let’s consider our hands

Which are the snow

The rose and the bee

As well as the future

Guillaume Apollinaire