Vincent Malloy is seven years old,
He's always polite and does what he's told.
For a boy his age he's considerate and nice,
But he wants to be just like Vincent Price.
He doesn't mind living with his sister, dog and cat,
Though he'd rather share a home with spiders and bats.
There he could reflect on the horrors he's invented,
And wander dark hallways alone and tormented.
Vincent is nice when his aunt comes to see him,
But imagines dipping her in wax for his wax museum.
He likes to experiment on his dog Abacrombie,
In the hopes of creating a horrible zombie.
So he and his horrible zombie dog,
Could go searching for victims in the London fog.
His thoughts aren't only of ghoulish crime,
He likes to paint and read to pass the time.
While other kids read books like Go Jane Go,
Vincent's favorite author is Edgar Allen Poe.
One night while reading a gruesome tale,
He read a passage that made him turn pale.
Such horrible news he could not survive,
For his beautiful wife had been buried alive.
He dug out her grave to make sure she was dead,
Unaware that her grave was his mother's flower bed.
His mother sent Vincent off to his room,
He knew he'd been banished to the tower of doom.
Where he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life,
Alone with a portrait of his beautiful wife.
While alone and insane, encased in his tomb,
Vincent's mother suddenly burst into the room.
"If you want to you can go outside and play.
It's sunny outside and a beautiful day."
Vincent tried to talk, but he just couldn't speak,
The years of isolation had made him quite weak.
So he took out some paper, and scrawled with a pen,
"I am possessed by this house, and can never leave it again."
His mother said, "You're not possessed, and you're not almost dead.
These games that you play are all in your head.
You're not Vincent Price, you're Vincent Malloy.
You're not tormented, you're just a young boy."
"You're seven years old, and you're my son,
I want you to get outside and have some real fun."
Her anger now spent, she walked out through the hall,
While Vincent backed slowly against the wall.
The room started to sway, to shiver and creak.
His horrid insanity had reached its peak.
He saw Abacrombie his zombie slave,
And heard his wife call from beyond the grave.
She spoke from her coffin, and made ghoulish demands.
While through cracking walls reached skeleton hands.
Every horror in his life that had crept through his dreams,
Swept his mad laugh to terrified screams.
To escape the madness, he reached for the door,
So he and his horrible zombie dog,
But fell limp and lifeless down on the floor.
His voice was soft and very slow,
As he quoted The Raven from Edgar Allen Poe,
"And my soul from out that shadow floating on the floor,
Shall be lifted--Nevermore!"
traduction
Voici Vincent Dupont, il vient d'avoir 7 ans.
il est toujours poli, c'est un garçon charmant.
Vincent est affectueux, d'une grande gentillesse,
mais il veut faire des films d'horreur comme Vincent Price.
Sa soeur, son chien, son chat, lui tiennent compagnie,
mais il serait bien mieux avec les chauves-souris.
Là il ferait marcher ses inventions terribles,
et promènerait seul son tourment indicible. Vincent is nice when his aunt comes to see him,
Quand sa tante vient le voir, Vincent est tout sourire,
il veut pour son musée la plonger dans la cire.
Il fait des expériences sur son chien, Aimable,
dans l'espoir de créer un monstre épouvantable,
et de trouver, avec ce sinistre vaurien,
des proies faciles dans le brouillard londonien.
Mais il ne pense pas qu'à des crimes lugubres,
il aime peindre et lire, ce qui est très salubre.
Seulement ce qu'il lit n'est pas de tout repos
Vincent a pour auteur favoris Edgar Poe.
Un soir, dans une horrible histoire d'élixir,
il lut un paragraphe qui le fit pâlir,
la nouvelle qu'il lu le berça d'épouvante,
sa très belle femme est enterrée vivante.
Il creusa pour s'assurer qu'elle était bien morte,
en détruisant ainsi des fleurs de toute sortes.
Sa mère l'envoya méditer dans sa chambre,
Il su que de ce monde il ne serait plus membre.
Et qu'il devrait passer le restant de ses jours,
seul avec le portrait de son défunt amour.
Vincent se morfondait, souffrait mille tourments,
Lorsque sa mère ouvrit la porte brusquement.
Elle dit : "Si tu veux tu peux sortir jouer,
Il y a du soleil, il faut en profiter.
Vincent voulut parler, aucun son ne sortit,
son long isolement l'avait fort affaiblit.
Il prit donc une plume et griffonna très vite ;
"Possédé par ce lieu, jamais je ne le quitte."
"Tu n'es pas possédé, tu n'es pas presque mort,
ce n'est que dans ta tête, tous ces mauvais sorts,
tu n'es pas Vincent Price, tu es Vincent Dupont,
tu n'es pas un timbré, mais un petit garçon,
tu viens d'avoir 7 ans, et même, tu es mon fils,
alors tu vas sortir, et prendre de l'exercice."
Ayant lâché ces mots, la mère repartit,
et pendant que Vincent restait abasourdi…
La chambre vacilla et trembla de partout,
il comprit qu'il était désormais vraiment fou.
Il vit son chien, Aimable, ressurgir en trombe,
et entendit sa femme, l'appeler d'outre tombe;
de son cercueil parvenait sa voix sépulcrale,
et des fentes des murs sortaient ces mains spectrales.
Toutes les horreurs qu'en rêve il avait créées,
transformèrent son rire en clameurs terrifiées.
Pour fuir cette folie il alla vers la porte,
mais il tomba, sans vie, comme une feuille morte.
Ce fût d'une voix faible et lente qu'il cita,
La fin du "Corbeau" d'Edgar Poe comme constat; “
"Et mon âme de cette ombre à l'air incongru,
Clouée au sol ne s'élèvera -- jamais plus."
Sujet: Vincent (tim burton) 
Jeu 28 Sep - 12:52
