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lundi 3 juin 2013

SEPTIEME MOIS DE L'AN 1 - SEVENTH MONTH OF THE YEAR 1





                                                                   AVRIL




                                         Arrivée au terme de la grande décision,

                                         Validant ou non la reprise de mon travail,

                                         Robotisée par le salariat, qu'il est dur de quitter les rails.

                                         Il  s'agit d'un temps réduit pour décider d'une mutation :

                                         Le congé sabbatique m'apparaît comme un apéritif......

                                                                   .................qui serait servi à un addictif !





MY TRANSLATION : SEVENTH MONTH OF THE YEAR 1



                                                                    APRIL



                                       Arrived near the deadline of the great decision,

                                       Passport validating or not the return in my work,

                                       Ravaged by wage labor, it is hard to leave the rails.

                                       It is a short time to decide on a change :

                                       Life on sabbatical seems like an aperitif ......

                                              ....................
served to an addictive personality !












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2 commentaires:

  1. Bravo a great poem about your April! Since you have translation on your website I can still read and enjoy your poems the way they are suppose to be. Here is the poem by Lewis Carroll I told you about. an acrostic poem.
    A Boat Beneath A Sunny Sky

    A boat beneath a sunny sky,
    Lingering onward dreamily
    In an evening of July--
    Children three that nestle near,
    Eager eye and willing ear,
    Pleased a simple tale to hear--
    Long has paled that sunny sky:
    Echoes fade and memories die.
    Autumn frosts have slain July.
    Still she haunts me, phantom wise,
    Alice moving under skies
    Never seen by waking eyes.
    Children yet, the tale to hear,
    Eager eye and willing ear,
    Lovingly shall nestle near.
    In a Wonderland they lie,
    Dreaming as the days go by,
    Dreaming as the summers die:
    Ever drifting down the stream--
    Lingering in the golden gleam--
    Life, what is it but a dream?
    Lewis Carroll wrote Alice In Wonderland and other books and poems.

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    1. I will see tomorrow his works, until the poem is superb
      thank you for putting it in the comment
      I will try again but i need that the French word and the English word have the same
      number of letters otherwise I do not have the same number of sentences!
      I did a double acrostic in the poem "the dream life?" but in French as in English the word is one letter more
      it's very funny to do, Bekkie, have you try ?
      Thank you for your enthusiasm and your interest for my work, i learn a lot of things with you
      Happy night
      Françoise

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