In the forlorn garden,
The statue, wet with rain and sleet,
Bends his head toward the winter ground.
Immobile monster,
Man of stone
Sleeps.
Years pass.
Memories fade,
Even his name is lost.
The heartless sculptor
Frankenstein
Fathered the giant,
Left him to a world of misery.
But comes a night when
The statue hears a crystal sound,
Lifts his heavy head
And sees a ghost beside him,
An angel in the haze.
“Fair Mary, at last you found me,
A creature of sorrow,
Derelict
In the forlorn garden.”
“Ce poème est un hommage à Frankenstein, le roman que Mary Shelley écrivit à Genève il y a deux cents ans. Une statue, érigée sur la plaine de Plainpalais, représente le monstre si humain que créa Frankenstein.”