I don't want to boast, but I've just pulled off a real masterpiece. At the age of seventy-five, I have become the unrivaled outrageous old lady of Moussy-lès-Limas. I live in this peaceful little ... [+]
The birds sing
As I sit in stagnant heat
Hands on still oars,
And the lake mirrors the sky
So perfectly
That I stand up and dive down
Toward the heavens,
And among the clouds,
Before the water breaks my wings,
I understand their song.