Biarritz

8 AM. I wake up under thick layers of white clouds.
From my window, the ocean rumbles, stretches, yawns, charming the innocent.
The sky, like a cotton wall, erases the contours but lets everything be heard.
The black seagulls fly and sing, "Egun on, wake up."

In the distance, the mountains protect the absent hearts.
Down below, the surfers run to the water, with little trotting steps.
From the living room, I watch them, a smile on my lips, my coconut water in hand.
Biarritz has something powerful, wild, and serene.

12 PM. The rain resonates abundantly, awakening fears.
Outside, a stormy background untangles the knots of horrors.
Inside, the future takes shape, soft, luminous.
I make music, it’s the hour of happy wishes.

The wind whispers gray thoughts, carried elsewhere.
A shiver crosses my soul, like a flash of lightning.
Calmly, I relive, nature vibrates in me,
A pure emotion, I sing with a fearless voice.

7 PM. The sun sets, a new dance begins.
The clear skies shift from pink to saffron.
The waves murmur, "Everything is reborn now."
On edge, you glide. Sweating, you vibrate, burning.
Blue love, I become the child of a moment.

In the evening, everything is calm. Running only serves to get lost.
Nothing rushes. It’s never too late to dream.
The stars appear. The glasses of Patxaran too... I fall asleep with a smile.
8 AM. I wake up under the white clouds.

Virginie Lentulus.

Pictures by Sebastien Zanella.