a "c" in french

The House of Bedlam (a C in French)

The wind is blowing the sand across the floor.

A darkness gathers though it does not fall

And the whiteness grows less vivid on the wall.

Here being visible is being white,

being solid is an extremist exercise...

That was different, something else, a longer line

All pleasures and all pains, remembering

We all will love again

She dreams of Coffee and oranges in a sunny isle

She hears, upon that water without sound,

A voice that cries, "The tomb is empty in Palestine”

This is the soldier home from the war.

These are the years and the walls and the door
that shut on a boy that pats the floor

All pleasures and all pains, remembering

We all will love again

In Mexico the dead man lay

The jukebox went on playing

among the fog-soaked weeds and butter-and-eggs.

And in the brothels of Marrakesh
the little pockmarked prostitutes
balanced their tea-trays on their heads

All pleasures and all pains, remembering

We all will love again

This is the house of Bedlam.
This is the man that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is the time of the tragic man that lies in the house of Bedlam.