Behind the crouching silence,

All human life is there.

The règlement de comptes,

The murderous affair.

 

The husband’s racked with jealousy,

The lover’s gripped by fear,

The old men play their dominos,

Now tragedy is near.

 

The policemen bow their heads

And lift the bodies up;

The wife flicks back her hair

And sips her coffee cup.

 

The lights blaze in the café,

The winter sky is dark;

She smiles into the mirror

At this day’s little lark.