Words charm me
  make me sign
And ask that I
  work
at any salary
  to find them–
Words rush
  under my pen
like a crowd
  of workers
Words demand
  their right to speak
  and seek to establish a dictatorship
  of words over life–
They need someone who understands them
  who will be at their service–
        Alas! I am not that person
Words pass through my hands
  Sitting and sleeping
  at the feet of the poet
  Who alone knows what they are worth
  Words will die if no one
  stirs them in time–
Words are silence which speaks–
Silent speaking bubbles.

(Translated from the French by Kristen Prevallet)