I know of sorcerers who invoke jets
In the jungle of New Guinea
They scrutinize the zenith
Coveting the guineas that the plunder of the freight would bring them

On the coral sea at the passage of this device
These creatures not devoid of reason
These Papuans
Wait for the clouds
The damage of the Viscount
And that of the Comet

And as their totem has never been able to bring down at their feet
Neither Boeing nor even D.C. Four
They dream of hijacks
And bird accidents

These naive wreckers
Armed with blowpipes
Who thus sacrifice to the cult of cargo
By blowing
Towards the azure
And the airplanes

Where are you Melody
And your dislocated body
Does it haunt the archipelago populated by sirens?

Or hanging on to the cargo whose alarm siren has been silenced
Did you stay?

At the mercy of the currents
Have you already touched
These luminous corals of the Guinean coasts
Where these native sorcerers stir in vain
Who still hope for broken planes

Having nothing more to lose
Nor God to believe in
So that they would return my derisory loves
Me, like them
I prayed to the cargo ships of the night

And I keep this hope
Of an air disaster
That would bring me back Melody
Minor diverted
From the attraction of the stars

What's your name?
Melody
Melody what?
Melody Nelson

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