Le livre des lotus entr'ouverts

In a quiet room lit by carpets and the glow of lamps, a solitary narrator settles before a wooden Buddha brought from a distant Chinese pagoda. He seeks the counsel of unseen spirits, hoping they will reveal shards of his former lives. The opening pages blend meditation with a yearning for clarity, inviting the listener into a world where time feels endless and fragile.

Through reverie, the narrator catches fleeting images of past selves—a humble herb‑collector on a chalky cliff, a traveling jester along dusty roads, and a poet wandering the temples of Delhi and Benares. Each fragment is tinged with modesty and a longing for beauty, suggesting a soul that has tasted many tongues of existence yet remains unsatisfied. The prose drifts like incense, balancing melancholy with quiet wonder.

The work unfolds as a contemplative lotus ledger where memories, myths, and desire intertwine. Listeners are guided to contemplate their own hidden depths, the possibility of rebirth, and simple rituals—milk for a black serpent, a whispered prayer—that promise moments of unexpected grace.