English Version
gothique et romantique

The prohibited bridge

Publié le 3 Sep 2012

I could tell you the history of this enlightened palate, of his solitary prince. To render comprehensible you, I would tell you that there is in a remote city, crossing a river with cool waters and dark, a prohibited bridge. With its entry two stone lions take care of the closed eyes. Slept each side of the roadway, they seem peaceful but their eyes of stone sometimes are raised letting appear yellow and cruel pupils. Never you will believe me because in your world the sculptures do not move, do not speak, do not live. However, in this city, the world is so different. Your reality does not exist. The stone lions are as frightening as those which you visits with the zoo. There, in this city, on the other side of the river extends on the hill a palate which is illuminated each evening. Few people visited it. Those which were introduced there from of ever returned. The most insane rumors run on this bridge, its guards, this prince who would be afflicted his loneliness.

I feel you attentive. Would my history have waked up you with this new reality? Firm eyes. Imagine. One black night and heat. Do you hear the silence weighing of this river which runs with your feet? You like his freshness. It makes you good. You want to open the eyes, to see this castle that your imagination has just drawn. You would like to know if reality is in conformity so that you feel. Do not forget that it must be immense, highly enlightened, with the broad windows with high columns. Trace with its feet, a bridge which connects it to you. You are there almost. I feel it. Go ahead opens the eyes, enters this new world for you. The castle is well as you imagined, the river also, the bridge; all is in place. It is not any more remained but to cross the river, to run towards the palate, to join the prince. I know that its name called you. The simple evocation of a hypothetical meeting had effect of your reason. To go up towards the castle is a risk which you want to run now. Remember the lions to the closed eyes. This recall is not made fear. I do not understand myself any more.

The play exceeds me. I told you these stories to amuse you, to distract you. I invented that by inadvertency, free, stupidly. You believed me. Too much. How to retain you? The day will rise, the lights to die out. The bridge, the castle will lose of their glare. You understood it. Now, you run towards the bridge, engages you between the lions with the closed eyes. I run after you to retain you. And, if my history were true? I do not know any more. Return! I beg you. I fear for you, for us.

You took lead on me. Just enough so that my hands cannot be clutched with you to slow down you, to stop you. You passed between the stone lions. I am relieved. My history was only one dream. If, you knew it although that makes me of realizing it! One moment, I had the feeling that all was so true. You run now on the bridge, towards the enlightened palate. I know that I will re-examine you. That reassures me. Your silhouette is reduced in the distance. Your tread is fast, more than mine. I am blown. In the east, the day raises a corner of night. In the sky one morning the white veil of fog takes shape. I stop at the entrance of bridge to benefit from it, to rest. Never, I will go further. The eyes, yellows and cruel of the stone lions, look me at the entrance of prohibited bridge.

le sang de la nuit, la naissance de l'ange, decouvrez le dernier roman de steffan urell

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