Si j'étais entrain de coudre mes bords de pantalons, je citerais TS Eliot

Je l'ai déjà cité, ce bout de poème que j'adore. Mais pourquoi j'ai l'impression de devoir à nouveau le répéter?

I grow old … I grow old …

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves

Combing the white hair of the waves blown back

When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown

Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Yé.