.
Gardien de notre corps,
Humain contre la mort,
Bataillant avec ferveur
La vie et ses douleurs.
.
.
Gardien de notre corps,
Humain contre la mort,
Bataillant avec ferveur
La vie et ses douleurs.
.
.
Light runs down on her cold skin
As she stands atop the hill,
The first of this age-old kin,
She brings to watchers a thrill
That exceeds comprehension,
Her delicate complexion
In the barren lands up north
Brings the greatest courage forth.
By the hand that gave her life
– With his inner love in tune –
Through the sharp edge of the knife
Shines the sun, dances the moon.
.
TLMS anyone?
*
À lueur du matin,
Alors que fond la nuit,
S’actionnent les pantins
De mon profond ennui,
Ces ombres éphémères
Qui me guettent et qui rôdent,
Menaçantes chimères
Qui, mon sommeil, taraudent.
Ne laisserez vous point
Ma vieille âme éprouver,
La condamnez vous donc
À cet étroit recoin ?
À ne jamais trouver
Bonheur parmi quiconque ?
*
.
The drums echo deep in the night
The ships are going off to war
Nothing can stop them anymore
As great warriors prepare to fight,
Let come the dawn red and bloody
As body falls after body;
The mighty fleet is on its way,
Heroes will soon enter the fray,
To avenge their king’s lost honor
They shall turn the mighty city
Into no more than a fawner,
For love they will give no pity.
.
.
Today I somehow feel elated,
Though a shadow looms over my heart,
I don’t know what has me excited
Nor what appears to tear me apart,
A passion in me has been lighted,
My heart has woken up with a start.
How can I feel sad but delighted?
How can I feel such pleasure and smart?
Emotions which came uninvited,
Heart sailing seas outside any chart,
Spirit seeking answers long blighted;
The magic of it all feels like art
And science have at once united
Into something more than their compart.
.
.
Homme, relève toi
De l’ombre à la lumière !
Homme, tient toi bien droit
Ô toi qui est si fier !
Homme, aie donc foi en moi
Et garde tes prières !
Homme, fais seul tes choix
Sans oublier hier !
.
.
As I enter the scene the engines start to rev,
The race takes place in the harbor, on the paved quai,
Three laps around the dock, and now starts the tic toc;
Oh this is dangerous though more often than not
I am crowned champion, to me belongs the kudo,
Witness the racing god, here’s my opus dei,
Tires upon asphalt, engines ready to roar,
Do not even bother for today’s race is mine.
.
A small attempt at an exercise in style while writing a poem.
.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
The tears I shed
Were not all for you.
.
.
Oh many have wondered yet some only have asked
How I write poetry with such facility,
I would reply to them that my fertility
Is but an illusion, but a bleak talent masked
In a myriad of words carefully handcrafted
From other geniuses and lines I have drafted
Through short passing moments of intense clarity,
A simple will to write suffices to create
– Without the need to keep artistic purity –
What will, through my readers, emotions permeate.
.
*
In your strong, loving arms, against your weeping chest,
Let me calmly lie so I can finally rest,
I feel so very tired and exhausted and beat,
Let me lie, let me surrender to sleep my sweet,
Please lull me on my way with your beautiful voice
Let me have for my leave this one last selfish choice;
I sought to bring some warmth to people all around
I thought if I looked far an answer might be found,
I tried my very best, oh that to you I swear,
I tried all I could try, I bore all I could bear,
I fought against the world with my body and soul,
You might not see light yet nor comprehend the point
But fear not my dear, your hope you must not aroint
For as I lie here, curled, I can see you are whole.
*
Aroint or a way to say begone in the olden tongue.
Also, involuntary sonnet…